


Sirius Black and the Mystery Veil

by HouseElfMagic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Second Chances, Some angst, Time Travel, all shipping is pretty minor, essentially marauders era fic, i didn't mean to get an ot3, regulus doesn't die!!!, sirius black deserves good things, sirius black goes through the veil, sorry about that, tiny bit of suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseElfMagic/pseuds/HouseElfMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Veil was a silvery misty substance like smoke. It was not solid or liquid or gas; it simply was. The Veil is a magical barrier. All those who’ve fallen through could attest to the magic of the mirror, but never explain how it worked, only its end-result. Each person had a different place/time location, owing to the rather picky and random attitude of the portal itself.  For Sirius Black, the portal transported him into the past, back into his 10-year old body to begin his Hogwarts education.<br/>Another Sirius Black was thrown into his 19-year old body to save Harry after the Voldemort incident, rather than chasing Pettigrew. Another, 32, when he escaped Azkaban prison in order to protect Harry with his newfound knowledge... the Veil returning him to the biggest turning points in his life and he would not waste a single one.<br/>Newly-returned-to-age-ten Sirius Black did not know this, however, and endeavored to make the best of the time given to him, to cherish his life, to do his best for his godson, James, Lily, even Snivellus. He would do things <i>right</i> this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sirius Black and the Mystery Veil

The Veil was a silvery misty substance like smoke. It was not solid or liquid or gas; it simply was. The Veil is a magical barrier. All those who’ve fallen through could attest to the magic of the mirror, but never explain how it worked, only its end-result. Each person had a different place/time location, owing to the rather picky and random attitude of the portal itself.  For Sirius Black, the portal transported him into the past, back into his 11-year old body to begin his Hogwarts education.

Another Sirius Black was thrown into his 19-year old body to save Harry after the Voldemort incident, rather than chasing Pettigrew. Another, 32... when he escaped Azkaban prison in order to protect Harry with his newfound knowledge... the Veil returning him to the biggest turning points in his life and he would not waste a single one.  
Sirius Black did not know this, however, and endeavored to make the best of the time given to him, to cherish his life, to do his best for his godson, James, Lily, even Snivellus. He would do things _right_ this time.

...............

The eleven-year old Sirius Black awoke with a start in his room in Black Manor to his brother cheerfully telling him that his Hogwarts letter had arrived. He was at once overwhelmed with emotion.

1\. He was no longer in the Department of Mysteries.

2\. If the Veil made him relive all these memories, then he would wish he was dead.

3\. If he had the chance to change things, however, he owed the Veil a fruit basket or something.

4\. Regulus hadn’t yet gone Dark, or even started school.

5\. Sirius wasn’t dead.

With all this swirling through his head, he carefully sat up and told Regulus to go down to breakfast and that he’d be down in a moment. While he’d thought up the wording, he had no way of knowing for sure if that had been his reaction when he was eleven. He made himself stand up and walked to the bathroom.

He felt along his face, ran his hands through his hair and marveled at his reflection. He really was eleven again.

Testing his theory, he hopped in place--that, he certainly hadn’t done on this day when eleven--that meant he could change things, though he didn’t know what level of freedom he had in things. He made himself dress and get ready for breakfast with Regulus and his parents. He needed to make a plan.

Merlin, he went back in time and still got stuck in Black Manor. Was this some poetic justice? He felt offended.

 

Sirius, once back in his room and away from the urge to sneer at his mother, took out some paper. The house elves had been forbidden from his room since he was eight and he took full advantage of that now, pulling out a quill and parchment with ink.

Where to start?

He decided to write out the major events of the next 23 years and figure out the turning points from there, what he’d need to change.

For example, Sirius was going to be the secret keeper and Peter Pettigrew would either never be his friend or be forced into such loyalty that he would never betray them.

Remus didn’t deserve that prank in fifth year--it was cruel of him and not fair to Remus, he knew now.  
He wouldn’t torment Snivellus for the hell of it, given that it might have played an itsy-bitsy _tiny_ little part in him becoming an evil Death Eater. Maybe.

He’d be a better person this time, more aware of others, less self-absorbed and after Harry told him about almost-Slytherin... he would _*cringe*_ stop being biased against Slytherins.

Merlin help him, this was gonna be hard.

 

Sirius struggled to play along with being eleven since he felt like he already advanced through this and wished nothing more than to fast-forward to the important bits.

Patience may be a virtue, but it is decidedly not one that Sirius possessed. Eventually he and his family went to Diagon Alley to retrieve Sirius’s school things and be fitted for robes. Curiously, when he visited Ollivanders the wand that chose him previously did not do so again, and instead he received a wand of Rowan wood with a phoenix tail-feather wand core, springy, 11 1/2 inches. Well, he figured he was a different person at this point in his life, less inclined to show off how different he was from his family, less impulsive and reckless... He had a purpose now, beyond finding where he belonged.

The rest of the summer was filled with excruciating planning with contingency plans and ideas about how to bring about the best possible outcome (baby Harry living, James and Lily living, Peter never betraying them, Remus being okay, Voldemort being dead with all his followers in Azkaban...).

Even with all these ideas, they were nebulous at best, vague to the point of annoyance. Sirius knew what he wanted to do, but not how to achieve it. He wasn’t a Slytherin, who understood the complex web of inter-connected ideas, regulations, expectations, manipulations, etc! He was a Gryffindor and had purposefully shucked off all things Slytherin from his life and it was finally coming back to bite him in the arse.

Sirius set himself some goals for his first year at school: he would a) befriend James and Remus, b) tell Regulus that he would always be his brother no matter where the sorting hat put him, c) pull off impressive pranks, d) never let those pranks become cruel or actually do harm to anyone, including Snivellus, e) encourage Lily’s friendship with Snape so he wouldn’t turn dark side, f) study up on Dumbledore’s idea of horcruxes and thus how to defeat Voldemort, and g) survive the boredom of learning everything over again (he’d take the OWLs and NEWTs for the classes from before, but he refused to take his electives over again come third year!).

Despite his resolve, Sirius faltered when faced with the train. Regulus was with him, urging him to find a seat, have a good year, and send him lots of letters, but all he could think about was how he first met James and Remus and how he had no idea what he should do to actually become their friend this time.

Did he go up and approach them to sit in their compartment? Did he wait for them to come to him? Did he wait until after he’s Sorted? Misinterpreting his nerves, his brother gave him a hug and wished him luck and farewell before disappearing back off the platform.

He left his trunk and owl for the house elves to handle, boarding the train and looking for an empty compartment or James or Remus. Whichever came first. Though he arrived nearly twenty minutes early, most of the compartments were already occupied and he couldn’t find an empty one until about halfway down the train. Already bored knowing James probably wouldn’t arrive until five minutes before the train would leave, Sirius plopped down and took out his first year text. He’d have to learn to cast with a new wand which shouldn’t be too difficult since it was still keyed to his personality. He figured since he hadn’t actually read through it much the first time around, he might as well actually read the goddamn book this time. Merlin, he was thirty and looked ten. He was sure ~~Snivellus~~ Snape would be all too happy to say that he thought Sirius was always a child even in adult form.

In his musing over his Charms text, he missed the first soft knock on the compartment door.

“May I join you?” A shy boy asked--Sirius would recognize that posture anywhere.

“Sure thing. What’s your name?”

“Remus Lupin. And yourself?”

“Cool name. I like the wolf connotation, makes you sound kinda badass. My name’s Sirius, Sirius Black.” Sirius said, presenting his hand for Remus to shake. Remus shook his hand with an awkward smile and sat down across from him, pulling out a book himself. A few minutes later a harried James Potter knocked on the compartment door.

“Might I share with you two? The older years refuse to share a compartment and all the others are full.”

“It’s fine with me.” Sirius said and Remus shrugged neutrally, flashing a small smile when James sat down.

“Oh, you’re the oldest Black son, right? Sirius or something?” James said carefully, suddenly afraid of hostility.

“Sirius Black, call me Siri--that goes for you too Remus--oh, Remus Lupin, by the way. You’re James Potter, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sirius said, presenting his hand to shake. James shook his hand before sitting down and spotting the books around. “You’re already studying? We haven’t even arrived at school yet!” Sirius laughed.

“I was just bored. I promise I’m not usually this studious unless it involves a prank.”

“You like pranks? Do tell.” James said, beginning a friendship for the ages _(again)_.

 

Peter showed up as Hagrid was calling for First Years and asked to join them on the boat. And suddenly Sirius had an idea--he could ask the Sorting Hat what to do, based on his knowledge of Peter! And no one would ever have to know. It was brilliant!

The group of first years travelled over to the castle and Sirius recognized most of his classmates, including Lily, Frank, Alice, cousin Narcissa, Malfoy, Snape, etc. They piled into the Great Hall on McGonagall’s orders and Sirius didn’t even jump this time when the ghosts appeared. Sirius subconsciously stuck close to Remus and James, but otherwise he hoped he seemed suitably impressed. He refused to meet the Headmaster’s eyes though, knowing first-hand how manipulative he liked to be of situations. He was a good man, yes, but Sirius didn’t trust him to act suitably for situations, especially this where he’d probably insist he not change anything until the very last minute before he could fall into the Veil. Well, that wasn’t going to happen.

He zoned back in in time to hear cousin Narcissa’s name called, meaning Sirius himself was next.

“Slytherin!”

_“Sirius Black.” He took a fortifying breath and walked to the Sorting Hat.  
_

_‘Ah, I see we’ve already met and come to a conclusion. I still hold with what I said before, of course. Therefore-!”  
_

_“Wait!” Sirius pleaded. “I need your opinion on something. I trust it won’t get back to the Headmaster?”  
_

_‘No. Speak your piece.’  
_

_“Peter Pettigrew. Is he a lost cause? Should I abandon him? Should I pull him closer than before? Could you sort him into Slytherin instead?”  
_

_‘Look, Black. You cannot judge people on what they have the potential to become. You’re judging Peter Pettigrew of your world, but--have you heard of the Butterfly Effect? One action causes a dozen little differences which each cause a dozen more. The Peter you knew will never be perfectly replicated. You, in your actions towards him, control--to an extent--what kind of person he will be. You must choose and choose wisely. Now, if you’re done, GRYFFINDOR!”_

The Gryffindor table cheered politely, more than a little confused, and Sirius gave the hat back to McGonagall, deciding he had a lot to think about--and letters to write to his parents and brother. He’d be a lot more polite this time around in breaking the news.

 

The Sorting went as it did last time with no changes. Sirius ended up sitting next to Remus, James, and Peter, with Lily across from him, sitting with Alice and Frank. He’d decided to be nicer on the whole to Peter, but also more distant. He couldn’t be around him without remembering what his older self had done before.

“You’re the first Black in centuries to be in Gryffindor!” James exclaimed. Sirius laughed, commenting that he knew that already.

“I don’t exactly think like the rest of my family. I’m more brave and reckless than cunning and ambitious. Not that they’re inherently bad or anything, but I still prefer Gryffindor. Plus, it’s a little of a fu--screw you to my parents.” James and Remus snickered.

“So what’s your name, beautiful?” Sirius asked, turning to Lily.

“Lily Evans. And you’re Sirius Black, was it?”

“Impressive memory.”

“Thank you.” Lily said, eating her food. She kept glancing back at Sni Snape across the hall, who refused to meet her eyes, staring resolutely at the table.

“You know, Gryffindor and Slytherin have had a long-term rivalry. People might pick on both of you for being friends, but I know a lot of the teachers would be happy to see some inter-house unity.” Sirius commented, trying for uncaring.

“Huh.” Lily said, processing. Sirius turned back to Remus.

“So what do you think Potions is gonna be like? I heard from my cousin Andy that Slughorn plays favorites to whoever he thinks will be willing to do him favors in the future.”

“That doesn’t sound fair.” Remus replied. Sirius almost beamed--same ol’ Remus.

 

James took a near-instant dislike to all the Slytherins on principal, but especially one Severus Snape. Sirius, surprisingly, had to act as a sort of voice of reason with Remus so as to not begin a targeted act of pranks against the greasy git. Severus wasn’t being any nicer than in his memory, but he still wanted to avoid the Incident at all costs, so he did his best to ignore him entirely. Lily kept up a somewhat rocky friendship with him, since he was in Slytherin and judged pretty harshly by his house mates--not that Gryffindor didn’t warn her _repeatedly_ against making friends with the “slimy snakes.” Honestly, she didn’t see the big deal; it was just a personality trait! But she dealt with it, between frantic study sessions for one thing or another.

Sirius was doing well in his classes, but had to re-expand his magical core, unable to just return to doing seventh year spells even though he knew them. He payed more attention this time to the essays and all, used to school now when before he’d only been tutored with Regulus. He still hated essays, but he’d had years more than the others to adjust to having to write them. He sometimes discussed some more advanced theory, but usually remembered to keep it simpler. James, however, would love for an excuse to procrastinate on his homework (which actually annoyed him now, which, wow, he didn’t think he’d become such a stick-in-the-mud after time travel), especially pranking.

Sirius had to get pretty creative in his ideas so that James didn’t repeat the stuff they’d already done in Sirius’s time and bore him to death. Peter hadn’t been really invited into the group, though James had taken a passive liking to him and Remus felt bad for the loner, especially since they were all in a single dorm room, yet Peter was the odd-man out despite Frank’s exclusion from the pranking group as well. Still, they treated him nicely and he ended up making friends with several of the Hufflepuffs in their year.

It was Sirius who suggested naming their friend group the Marauders, wanting that bit to stay as it was before. James and Remus agreed and a few months later, James proposed making a map of the castle since he kept getting lost with the changing stairs. Sirius suggested making it show where people were so they wouldn’t get caught by professors, but the map would take at least a year. Meanwhile, James had finally figured out that Remus was a werewolf and did his best to support him, while Sirius acted as though he’d only found out a few days after James begin leaving him hints. Lily probably already knew, but never said anything.

James suggested becoming animagi and Sirius was ecstatic, though Remus didn’t want his friends to get hurt in the process of helping him. Sirius and James were slowly convincing Remus that yes, they knew he was a werewolf, no, they didn’t care, and yes, they were going to do everything in their power to help him since he was their friend. Snape was less nasty with Sirius being less nasty. Sirius was beginning the very long crusade to turn James away from the house-rivalry and into looking at the people individually before the house. He was insistent that if Harry ended up being a good fit for Slytherin again then he would have that option if he wanted it! He wasn’t gonna let his previous bias infect James too and in turn hurt his godson.

Sirius pulled his curtains closed and murmured a privacy charm, pulling out one of his lists from the beginning of the year (made entirely inaccessible to anyone less powerful than a teacher).

a) ~~befriend James and Remus  
~~

~~b) tell Regulus that he would always be his brother no matter where the sorting hat put him  
~~

c) pull off impressive pranks (ongoing)

d) never let those pranks become cruel or actually do harm to anyone, including ~~Snivellus~~ Snape (ongoing)

~~e) encourage Lily’s friendship with Snape so he wouldn’t turn dark side  
~~

f) study up on Dumbledore’s idea of horcruxes and thus how to defeat Voldemort, and

g) survive the boredom of learning everything over again (ongoing)

Honestly, he’d already accomplished a lot by not losing his hard-kept sanity after the time travel, but he had a lot of work to do still. He wanted to continue pulling off non-malicious pranks of course, but he really had to work on the horcrux thing. He’d let it fall to the wayside while working on schoolwork and his friendship with James and Remus, but he needed to start looking into it. He’d start in the _*shudder*_ Library.

The Hogwarts Library was renown for its vastness. It was a large room with a seemingly endless collection of books, in shelves upon shelves upon shelves. There was an entire section just for catalogues so you could find what you were looking for. Having heard of a search tool for computers in the future, he brought up the idea with Madam Pince to magically search books for key words and the titles and locations of those books could then show up in their own log book. She loved the idea and managed to get the idea working in about a month, after conferring with Professor Flitwick who awarded Gryffindor 5 points for the ingenuity and usefulness.

Soon enough, he could use the catalogue to search for horcruxes only to hit a snag--the only mention of horcruxes was in a book in the restricted section and he wasn’t about to tell a teacher the real reason he needed to go into the restricted section. However, he did have a way... even if it involved asking a friend.

“Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I borrow your invisibility cloak for the night?”

“Sure. What for?” James asked, pulling out the cloak and handing it over.

“Restricted section. Heard some older-year students say that a few books were placed back there because of a single nasty section, while the rest has all sorts of prank spells we could use. I’ll check it out for us, yeah?”

“Alright. Let me know if there’s anything interesting. Oh! I had an idea about pranking the school during breakfast in the Great Hall, you see-”

 

Horcruxes, Sirius found, were soul-pieces. They required the murder of an innocent to twist the soul so much that it severed in half, decreasing the sanity of the host, but allowing for immortality on the basis that the horcrux wasn’t destroyed. The only way to restore the soul was complete remorse for the murder. There were only a few confirmed instances of horcruxes existing, belonging to evil witches and wizards. The methods of creating a horcrux had been lost to history, the book said, but Sirius knew that wasn’t quite true. If it had been “lost to history,” then the best shot at getting more information was to look at an old Pureblood family’s library. He’d have to wait until Christmas at the earliest to get any more information on horcruxes and, until then, he’d just have to content himself with looking into what little of soul-magic wasn’t in the restricted section.

Sometimes he hated being a kid again.

 

Soul magic offered more knowledge within the library. Soul magic was considered Dark because it dealt with the soul, though little of it was actually evil (even minor offensive spells like the Knockback Jinx counted as Dark Magic). Soul-bonds (which occurred only a few times worldwide per generation) were a form of inherent soul-magic, while soul magic like splitting the soul, necromancy, locating a soul, or summoning spirits were enacted soul-magics.

And _that_ was where he hit an accidental breakthrough. His parents would be ecstatic when he went home and showed an interest in soul magic, he was sure.

 

The Hogwarts Library had thousands of books, yet nothing, absolutely nothing could actually provide him with a means to locate a soul. A ritual, potion, and spell were all mentioned as possibilities, except the books didn’t give names for the methods or discuss where the knowledge could be found or anything else helpful. He had his work cut out for him.

Sirius, though, had been raised on the pureblood traditions. He knew certain rituals and ceremonies that one only knew from growing up in or marrying into a Pureblood Dark family. He knew of the pagan rituals some Pureblood families liked to continue, like Walpurgis Night Festivities or Samhain. He knew of the Dark (but not evil, rarely evil) practices of many of these families and considered his access to those families. Potter was a notoriously light family, despite being pureblood. The other course of action was, of course, to ask for access to a pureblood family’s library for resources if he couldn’t find anything, but that meant that he would owe the family an undisclosed favor and that they could easily discover what he was looking into, with the final worry that it would be wholly misinterpreted and lead to people he wanted to recognize him for himself believing instead that he really was like his ancestors. He’d have to see what he could find in the Black Library. If he got invited to his cousin’s house, however...

 

He discovered a secret passageway to and from the Restricted Section and swore to never allow it to go on the map since the information there was dangerous and he was only going because he was actually an adult, even if his body didn’t show it. He would show up several nights a week to research Dark Magic and Soul Magic, hoping to discover something about horcruxes that would bring about Voldemort’s downfall, once and for all. He needed to know how many horcruxes existed, what the were, where they were, and what Voldemort was planning.

Sirius had an advantage over the general public in this endeavor though: he knew the identity of Voldemort--Tom M. Riddle. He knew that the diary from Harry’s second year had been one of Voldemort’s horcruxes--probably the first one, and was destroyed with a basilisk fang, thus providing a means by which to kill horcruxes. He needed to order some basilisk venom “for potions” immediately. Though he had a means of destroying a horcrux, he had no means of acquiring the one he knew about, knowing only the location from over two decades in the future, though he knew Lucius’s father was in current possession of the Diary if Voldemort wasn’t. Voldemort was alive, but still acting mostly quietly, causing people--mostly muggleborns and “blood traitors”--to disappear. The Ministry wasn’t broadcasting the facts by any means. The actual panic, if things continued on Sirius’s timeline, wouldn’t start until partway through fifth year.

Sirius wondered if the prophesy would change or even be delivered in this timeline. In the other, Harry had been made the Boy-Who-Lived because Voldemort believed a prophesy and thus made it become true, pushing Harry into being his enemy. However, in this timeline, if James and Lily survived and Sirius began horcrux hunting now... would Harry still need to go through that? To face that horrible fate, to be destined to fight? Sirius would do whatever it took to protect his godson from that, if it meant taking down Voldemort with his bare hands. Sirius hadn’t done right for Harry that first time, prioritizing revenge over his godson and it had cost him most dearly. He may never know what would happen if he’d chosen Harry that day, but he had the opportunity to prevent the choice from becoming necessary. He would fix things with his knowledge.

He had to, or he had nothing left to live for.

 

Sirius Orion Black always thought it funny that his parents never realized that his initials spelled out SOB--son of a bitch. Sirius thought it was hilarious and took great pleasure in it, saying that he’d always been destined to be a little shit. And apparently a dog animagus too.

Nevertheless, Sirius was a prankster at heart and always had been. He loved jokes and pulling jokes on people because it made him laugh, made others laugh, and then it made others like him. The Marauders had been founded on a mutual agreement to bring humor to the school. Of course, sometimes the search for humor went horribly wrong--as with the Incident--but most times, people tended to enjoy pranks and it was a means of non-harmful petty revenge. As much as he hated to take any form of inspiration from the Incident, Sirius had an idea.

Sirius wasn’t particularly great at anything. He was good at Charms and Transfiguration, passed Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies with acceptable grades... but he never really excelled at anything like he did pranking. It was how he’d found such common ground with the twins back in the other timeline. Now, when he was planning to singularly undermine the most influential Dark Lord in years, he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to accomplish it, until he remembered the Incident.

The Incident was a dark time in his life. He used and abused Remus’s werewolf-hood to scare Sni Snape, too used to the safety of his animagus form and too self-obsessed to consider the consequences of his actions. Remus as a werewolf attacked Severus in their fifth year at Hogwarts, Sirius having purposefully lured him forward for a cruel scare that nearly turned out deadly and prompted a lifelong hatred in Snape who’d attempted to have Sirius and Remus both expelled. Remus could have been killed by the Ministry, “put down” like an animal, because he was a “magical creature” that had no rights and attacked a wizarding child. Sirius’s trick nearly killed his friend and his enemy both.

Sirius hated the Incident, hated how he’d not realized that it was wrong, that it was cruel and horrid to both boys. Especially Remus, who’d trusted him only to find that trust misplaced. Sirius hated to draw any inspiration from the incident, but he had to.

Sirius was good at pranks, but he also had a violent streak, likely from the madness that ran in the Black Family, only furthered by 12 years in Azkaban with next to no human contact while in the form of a dog. When combined, it was true that his malicious pranking could be deadly--and he could use that in a war.

If he was to be taking on Voldemort, he needed all the weapons he could get his hands on in his arsenal, even malicious pranking and, if necessary, the Dark Arts his family had taught him. Sirius began designing pranks he would never expose to the student body, intended for Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. After all, even if his magical capabilities had decreased to an eleven-year-old level, he still had his knowledge from before. He figured potion bombs was one of his more genius ideas. He began brewing and designing the containers. He had a lot of work ahead of him.

 

Know thy enemy; Sirius was making great endeavors at this. Through mail correspondence, Sirius attempted to seek the records of T. M. Riddle’s early years, stating that his dear friend Tom had been found in the hospital after a horrible car-crash without a clue who he was. Amnesia was such a terrible thing, and with the limited medical file on the man, they needed to find all they could to make sure he wasn’t improperly treated. Amnesia was very tricky and the wrong memories could be believed without solid foundation if the victim only believed that they should be believed, and the man shouldn’t be left with false memories. After all, his lovely friend Tom hadn’t divulged enough of his past for Leo to actually know if the memories were real or not, and wanted confirmation from whatever sources he could find. The nice lady from Wool’s Orphanage was so happy that Tom had finally found a friend in Leo, insisting that he’d been a rather lonely boy in his youth after being orphaned. His mother had died directly after giving birth and his father had given him up, insisting that the mother had tricked him somehow. Tom had looked for all sorts of information on his father, hoping for a reconciliation, only to face the man’s untimely death a few years later. Poor Tom never did have much of a family. The parent’s homes? Oh, yes, dear, here are the addresses.

That poor woman hadn’t a clue the information she’d inadvertently delivered regarding one of Voldemort’s horcruxes.

 

Peter hadn’t joined the Marauders. He knew who they were, but never outed them, preferring to stick with his friends in Hufflepuff and leave the other Gryffindor boys alone. He felt like an outcast, but they were always perfectly polite to him. They could even be said to be friends, though not close ones. Peter let them continue their pranks on the silent agreement that they wouldn’t admit he was sneaking away each night to see some Mirror.

 

Christmas came and Sirius felt it prudent to leave the castle. He needed to look into horcruxes and soul magic in the Library at the Manor and sneak away later to look into the orphanage and Riddle’s parents’ houses. As much as he’d rather spend time with James, he had a good excuse to leave--he wanted to see his brother, which was admittedly true. Sirius had missed his brother. He’d been too much in shock, too focused on a happy ending that first month or so, that he didn’t quite appreciate his brother as he felt he should have. His brother was alive and didn’t hate him. Sirius could salvage his relationship with his brother. He needed to remember to tell him that whatever house Regulus went to, they would still be brothers and friends. He wouldn’t lose his brother over a silly difference like a personality type. His brother was his brother and Regulus was his little brother, making it Sirius’s duty to look after him, just as it was his duty to look after Harry in the future.

Sirius rushed his Christmas shopping, trying to remember what he’d gotten people the last time around. After finishing, having been given free reign in Diagon Alley so long as he returned by sunset, Sirius meandered over to the muggle entrance and out to the street where he summoned the Knight Bus to go to Wool’s Orphanage, where he would start.

Wool’s Orphanage had been closed down for eight years and was now a wholly-unremarkable office building with no magical signature whatsoever. The mother’s house was more of the same, the building having fallen into disrepair and demolished fifteen years back. The father’s home however had a magical signature--weak, but still detectable, dampened by the numerous wards on the property. Carefully he sought the weaknesses of the wards and to discover their purpose: one would trigger if Dumbledore appeared, one was a muggle-repelling ward, a ward to hide the power of an object, and one was a notice-me-not ward keeping the spell active. Discovering he didn’t need to exhaust his magical core by attempting wandless magic to take down wards, he stepped into the house. It didn’t take all that long to locate the source of the power, hidden and dampened as it appeared through the wards. As he stepped closer, he was met with a feeling of Dark Magic. He knew whatever was in that area was a horcrux without a doubt in his mind. He advanced towards the area, only to be puzzled when the chair was past the signature, yet the only furniture in the vicinity. Sirius looked down--of course, the floorboards! He quickly went about ripping them out within the localized source of the magic to discover a ring. Practicing caution since he couldn’t practice magic with a wand until he returned to Black Manor, he carefully packed the horrid ring into a handkerchief and stuffed it in his pocket, rushing to recall the Knight Bus.

 

He returned home, triumphant but feeling ill. The objects, possessing such foul magic, would make him irritated to the point of madness if he did not remove them from his person at once, he gathered, and quickly made his way to remove the ring from his pocket. Flinging the ring in his bathroom sink, he retrieved his tiny store of basilisk venom and collected a dagger, dipping it in the poison.

Careful not to come in direct contact with the venom, he plunged the dagger into the ring. The ring _screamed_ , hissing out foul black smoke that dissipated after a few seconds as though it had never been there, leaving him hoping that the horcrux had been fully eliminated. The ring itself looked no worse for wear and Sirius washed the extra basilisk venom down the drain. The stone in the ring looked... strange, tempting almost, but Sirius knew that whatever it was couldn’t be very good and he plucked the ring from the sink and tossed it in the toilet which he summarily flushed and walked back out without another thought. Death would be horrified to see the treatment his Deathly Hollow had gone through in the past several years. First becoming a horcrux, now flushed down a toilet!

 

Sirius found himself more often than not in the Black Manor Library, researching soul magic and horcruxes. He’d found very little more in his search, but lacked the find spell used in the Hogwarts Library to simplify the research for him, so he had to do it manually. He scanned each shelf for books on soul magic, hoping beyond hope that he would find something offering him knowledge of how to find Voldemort’s other horcruxes. He searched for hours and hours. He looked up Soul Magic, tried looking up horcruxes, looked up the Killing Curse itself, but absolutely nothing provided more information that was actually useful than he already had. Feeling put out, he resolved to find a way to gain access to his cousins’ library, sure that it would have more resources readily available. The assuredness and hope he’d felt after destroying the horcrux left him as he contemplated his options.

He needed to locate and destroy all of Voldemort’s horcruxes or Voldemort would never die. He needed to fix the mistakes of his past, saving his brother, Lily, James, and Harry, along with Remus and even Snape. To accomplish those he had to: a) find a means to locate Voldy’s horcruxes, b) ascertain the horcruxes, c) destroy the horcruxes, and eventually d) bring about Voldemort’s death as well as e) protect and help Regulus, especially at school, f) keep Lily and James away from a situation involving their using a Fidelius, g) be nicer to people and more considerate towards others, and h) think about the potential consequences of his actions in this new timeline. There was so much to do, to consider.

Had his destroying a horcrux moved up the timeline? Did his avoiding Peter benefit them or hurt them? Would Harry still be born in this timeline? Would Remus be happier without the Incident, or would something worse occur? The problem was that, even though he had all this knowledge from the other timeline, changing things here had already changed the previously predictable events into an unrecognizable pile of what ifs. Sirius could no longer predict with accuracy what his actions would result in and had to now rely on hope and educated guesswork. He needed to channel his inner Slytherin (there’s some semblance in there with his upbringing) to see the complex web of connections about the world so that he might be able to guess how his changes would affect the outcome of the war.

For instance, if Sirius accepted Regulus instead of abandoning him when he became a Slytherin, then he might not join Voldemort, defect, and die. Instead he might become Voldemort’s enemy and be killed, or join the Order of the Phoenix, or join the Dark Lord anyhow, or any number of things with a million different factors affecting the outcome. Merlin, his head hurt.

Sirius both loved and hated time travel.

 

Sirius spent a day locked in his room after a nightmare. Sure, he felt he was being a bit childish, but it was almost Christmas and he just claimed he was wrapping presents. He was a thirty-plus-year-old man for Morgana’s sake, not a child--and yet, the nightmare disturbed him. In the dream, Sirius fell through the Veil, dead after Bella’s Killing Curse, and watched as his friends tried to cope with his death. Harry was screaming for him, pleading. His heart broke as he watched, Harry’s screams filling his head until he could hear nothing more.

He missed his godson.

Harry was a bright boy, very brave and intelligent. He was extremely willful, but frustrated and with good reason; one can only have a child do an adult’s job so many times before the child becomes angry and frustrated when the adult tells the child that, because they are only a child, it is no concern of their’s so go run along and play. Harry’d had to deal with Quirrellmort, the horcrux diary, the looming threat of Sirius Black (and Peter Pettigrew), and Voldemort killing his friend in front of his eyes and then, quite suddenly, all the adults in his life were telling him that he shouldn’t have any part in fighting Voldemort anymore and that they couldn’t tell him anything, even though he was literally the most important person to their side of the war. Sirius knew how Harry felt given that several of the Order members didn’t want to include him in proceedings because he had spent 12 years in Azkaban instead of having normal human interaction, so they thought he was basically still 19. For months, they held him prisoner in his own house, making him feel kept out of the loop and generally treating him like a child. He refused to be strung along like another’s tool anymore; he was going to act now and of his own volition, answering to no one so that something can actually be accomplished. He needed to find those damn horcruxes.

 

Regulus inadvertently presented the idea to him.

“It’s a magical sort of clay. It becomes anything you require, looking and acting like the thing so long as it doesn’t have a conscience, but it only lasts for about 15 minutes. It sounded like something you’d like for your pranks.” Sirius beamed and pulled him forward to hug him tightly. Of course! Harry had mentioned finding and using the Room of Requirement. The Marauders themselves had never found it, but Harry’s timid friend Neville had and it was on the 7th floor, somewhere around a tapestry of dancing trolls. If he asked the Room of Requirement to provide him with a means by which to locate Voldemort’s horcruxes... but he’d need to hurry because the Marauders Map would likely be ready by the end of the year and, while useful, would only hinder his ability to hide his castle wandering from James and Remus.

Sirius didn’t like lying to his friends, but he had no intention of telling them he was a time traveller looking for a way to bring about a Dark Lord they wouldn’t have even heard the name of yet.

“Thank you.” Sirius remembered to tell Regulus.

“So what’s Hogwarts like?” Sirius felt a smile pull at his face.

“Oh, the things I could tell you. First of all, Filch, the squib caretaker, is an absolute dick and his cat, Mrs. Norris, is an evil little she-devil...”

 

When Sirius got back to the castle, the first thing he did when he had a spare moment was to go to the 7th floor and stare down the portrait of the trolls being taught how to do ballet by Barnabas the Barmy. Unfortunately, Harry had never told Sirius how to actually get _into_ the room.

Sirius glared at the trolls in tutus.

He stared some more.

He called out all the passwords he remembered for Hogwart’s many doors and all the revealing spells he could remember from James’s auror days.

Nothing. Absolutely _nothing._

 

He returned the next morning and glared some more. No progress was made. He flopped on the floor and stared at the ceiling contemplating life.

He pleaded to Merlin.

Still nothing.

 

Days 3 and 4 yielded similar results and Sirius felt like screaming. Day 5, however, was more fruitful.

Sirius paced; he’d never been one for the habit, despite James, Remus, and Dumbledore all doing it. He just wanted to find the room so he could find and destroy the horcruxes damn it!

He continued pacing and turned on his heel.

He was frustrated and about to give up entirely. Harry had managed to get in, somehow, in his fifth year. His friend--the shy one--Neville, was his name! Neville had managed to find it somehow.

He turned again.

Maybe he could ask the house elves if they knew.

He needed to find the room of requirement goddamn it-!

A door appeared where there had previously been an empty wall.

_Huh._

 

The room inside was not what Sirius had expected. He’d expected some sort of library, not some... war room.  
Though the setting was unexpected, it was also comforting, the feeling that Hogwarts was inadvertently helping him with this. Helping him.

He missed having people on his side for the war, but it had been so long... before James and Lily’s-... Sirius shook himself.

He had work to do.

The room was fairly small and dimly lit. There were a few shelves of books on one wall and a large mahogany table in the middle of the room. The table in front of him had maps, a few books, and information on Tom Riddle’s school life, as well as books on strategy and offensive magic. A few blank pages were scattered around, along with some of the pens Remus loved so much that he could use to take notes and plan out, given his tendency toward complete chaos when planning something. As he looked closer, four points pulsed in blue on the map--and as he touched one, more information appeared.

_Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup, horcrux created by TMR age 24, located at Lestrange Manor_

When he touched the blue “Lestrange Manor,” an address with coordinates appeared.

Sirius loved magic.

 

Even with the locations of the objects and knowing what they were, he still had work to do. The Cup was in Lestrange Manor, the Diadem somewhere in Hogwarts, Nagini in Wiltshire somewhere, and the Diary with her. Nagini and the Diary both were likely with Voldemort, leaving only two open to Sirius without direct confrontation: the Cup and the Diadem, but with the Hufflepuff Cup in Lestrange Manor... Sirius could only access the Diadem.

Unfortunately, the map wasn’t that helpful for that, simply saying Hogwarts’s seventh floor. Sadly, the floor was still rather large, if mostly empty and Sirius spend four annoying days searching everywhere, only to get nothing until he thought of the Room of Requirement itself. It could be in some variation of the Room!

It wasn’t hard to ask the Room of Requirement to produce the room where the Diadem was and he was right about it being there! He produced another vial of basilisk venom and coated a conjured dagger and the Diadem screamed when stabbed, but was purged of all dark magic.

The Cup, Nagini, and the Diary were all still in play, and he’d need to get exceptionally creative to acquire them.

 

By the end of the year, Sirius still had no plan. He’d read several of the books in his War Room in the Room of Requirement and sure, they helped with strategy for defense and ideas for fighting, but he still didn’t have the means to acquire the last three horcruxes, though he had written down the coordinates, hoping they would stay in those locations all summer. Sirius wondered if Voldemort could feel the shards of his soul being slaughtered, but shook his head, casting away the thought. There were still three horcruxes, and Sirius could only hope the maniac didn’t try to make another one.

Sirius hadn’t finalized a plan, but he did have a few things in his favor. He was one of the top students in his class (it cracked him up too) and didn’t need to study since so much was cumulative (though he was doing as bad in Binn’s class this time as always). He also had two great friends and had even started a friendship with Lily, Frank, and Alice. He also hadn’t estranged his brother or made Severus a Death Eater in-training. He’d even destroyed two horcruxes, leaving three to go, according to the Room of Requirement. However, he had researched the Butterfly Effect that the Sorting Hat had told him about and knew it was right: by changing so many things so quickly, he could no longer control the path of the future in any way. He had no idea any more what the future could hold, if Harry would ever be born, if Voldemort would die and resurface, if Dumbledore would reform the Order of the Phoenix, or even if he would live to the age he had last time around.

But he was given a second chance, and he was damn-well going to make the best of it.

 

As he said goodbye to his friends on the train, Sirius spotted his parents and brother out the window. He felt a smile break out, thinking of how he’d (potentially) helped his brother and how he hoped to do better by him this time. He wanted his brother to live, even if he was fine with his parents choking and dying at any moment. He’d almost worn his Gryffindor robes off the train, just to spite his parents, but he’d learned his lesson not to completely isolate him, or he’d lose access to his brother too. He quickly made his way toward his family and gave Regulus a hug, surprising the younger who knew Sirius had never been big on physical contact. He straightened his back, nodded to his parents, and they were off, apparating back to Black Manor.

 

The worst thing about being a minor again is the restriction on magic. He couldn’t apparate or ease his boredom or anything! He was bored out of his freaking mind! Sure, he could owl his friends or talk to his brother, but now that he wasn’t sorting out all this time-travel business, the waiting around was getting to him. He was always either planning something or doing something before Azkaban, with left only too much time for reflection and having too much time to himself now only brought with it bad memories.

He tried to remember what he’d done last time around, when he’d been grounded most of the summer, but mostly just recalled planning pranks for school. When he was exceptionally bored, he still did plan pranks on the school.  
He had one especially that he was looking forward to enacting, and since it relied more on knowledge than skill, it’d be easy enough to do.

First, he wanted to prank the people who’d been Death Eaters last time around. They would all be hit where it hurt the most--their pride. They would be made to look ridiculous and act ridiculously--but he digressed. The plan would be acted upon soon enough.

Otherwise, he read to solve his boredom. He refused to be unprepared for the upcoming war. Last time, he’d been overconfident and relied on his skills without actually trying to improve on them, but the war could easily come early this time around, seeing as he was destroying Voldemort’s horcruxes which he would eventually catch on to, easily prompting an early start to the war. Merlin, he was turning into a nerd.

He really wasn’t much of a bookworm, preferring not to read so much as do, but needs must, so here he was, reading whatever caught his interest in the Library, even books on Dark Magic. It didn’t make sense to him, in reflection, not to teach about Dark Magic enough that it could be understood and thus defended against. Quite a few of the members of the Order of the Phoenix had been killed due to not knowing what Dark Magic was, and thus not being able to counter its effects. Sure, low-level Dark Magic was taught at school--jinxes and the like--but not the real stuff. They needed to know that kind of thing in the war. Many of his friends might have survived if they’d known.

People had an issue (and he’d had it too, he knew that now) with classifying Dark Magic. Dark Magic was anything with the intent to cause harm or even annoyance upon the recipient. Many things were considered Dark Magic, though were helpful offensive maneuvers meant as non-lethal alternatives to bad spells. To defend yourself, unless you were exceptionally creative, warranted using “Dark Magic,” which was disturbing if you asked him. So he studied it, and whatever else captured his attention. He was already bored enough for it.

 

Sirius hated his mother with a fiery passion that didn’t diminish, but only increase when having to encounter again in the flesh. She had been disappointed in him, as always, for not ascribing to her ideas of a good son, while quiet Regulus tried to please her and avoid the punishments wrought down on Sirius. This time, Sirius behaved himself better, being much older mentally, though that horrid woman had a way of getting under his skin. Thankfully, he’d learned to tune her out over the years and put his skill to good use whenever possible, listening only for the important information and gist of the situation.

On this particular day in late-June, he heard the announcement that his cousins would be coming to visit. Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda were all being dragged along while their and Sirius and Regulus’s mothers had tea, while the fathers had important discussions. Sirius wished he’d brought one of the twins’ ear things with him through the Veil somehow! Instead, he and his brother were stuck entertaining the pompous pricks and an Andy who didn’t yet consider breaking away from her family. He couldn’t even swindle them for much information, since they were too young to know anything. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Bellatrix was friends with the Lestrange brothers and had probably been to Lestrange Manor at some point, but he had no way of asking her without her turning it on him. It was something he’d always hated about her, her ability to see through whatever you wanted and brutally tearing down your plans before you realized you’d even made them. She was a Slytherin, though she lacked the subtlety Slytherin used to be able to pride itself on. Hell, Sirius didn’t know that many Slytherins in the past few decades that actually lived up to the hype, though that could be said for several of the houses. Dividing them by personality traits just didn’t seem like the best idea, romanticizing the ideas of each trait and criticizing the appearance of any traits belonging to the other houses.

Back on topic, the Black cousins were visiting, which meant serious trouble for Sirius if he wasn’t careful. He had nothing to gain and everything to lose with the visit... unless he could convince Andromeda and Narcissa, somehow, that the Pureblood supremacy legacy was a load of bull and not worth believing. Andromeda had changed sides when she met Teddy in a few years, but Narcissa had raised a child on the wrong side of war, but Sirius had a slim (microscopically slim) chance of changing her future into a brighter one. Even if he wasn’t particularly fond of Narcissa, she wasn’t an overtly bad person and deserved an attempt at saving her--and the son she’d had, Draco.  
Still, though, Sirius didn’t have a plan for how to do that, much less under Bellatrix’s nose. He had a lot of work to do and from his mother’s speech, only three days to make a plan for it.

 

Three days passed and though he filled dozens of pages with notes, he still had next to no idea how to win over Narcissa. Sure, he had half-cocked ideas, but nothing solid enough that it would lead to success. Well, at least he was used to winging things.

The day finally arrived when his cousins would be visiting. The mothers quickly moved to one room, the fathers another, and Sirius, Regulus, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda found themselves in an entirely different room--the Library. Bellatrix had immediately claimed the softest chair for herself as if on instinct, draping herself over it in a way that just barely spoke of the Pureblood upbringing she’d been raised with. Honestly, she looked self-satisfied and above everyone else. Well, she was done with schooling now and legally allowed to do magic. Sirius wondered why she’d even allowed herself to be dragged along to deal with the “little kids.” Besides, she was basically engaged already to Rudolphus Lestrange; her coming to Black Manor had ulterior motives, Sirius realized with dread. If she was planning something nefarious, then that just made any and all attempts at coercing Narcissa and Andromeda to see the light all that more impossible.

Bellatrix was a right bitch, Sirius knew. She was smart when she wanted to be, but she let her insane tendencies (Sirius blamed the inbreeding) to get ahold of her far too often, negating the natural cunning she so rarely used. Yes, she was smart, but she was also too prone to act upon her emotions, rather than logic. He could try to use that against her, but the problem with having such knowledge was understanding how to implement it. Sometimes Sirius wished for the ability of manipulation, the understanding of the intricacies of human interaction and means of tugging one string to have an entire web of action land helpfully in one’s lap that many famous Slytherins possessed. Of all the lessons he might’ve learned from his family, this is the one he, upon reflection, was most envious of.

Alas, he did not have the inherent understanding of people he wished for, and was thus, rather at a loss as to how to proceed.

How could he both win over Narcissa and Andromeda, while not only nullifying any and all attempts on Bellatrix’s part to belittle and criticize him, but also turn the sister’s against the ideals Bellatrix so fervently believed? He saw only one solution, but didn’t know how to enact it: turn the sister’s against Bellatrix.

But he barely knew Andromeda and Narcissa! He didn’t know how they thought, much less how to manipulate them to his satisfaction.

As Narcissa moved to delicately take a seat in one of the other chairs and Andromeda moved to peruse the shelves, Sirius was struck with a thought. While Bellatrix was obviously a lost cause, Narcissa and Andromeda had the potential, given their typically no-nonsense attitudes, to be swayed by logic. Sure, it derailed his ideas of truly planting the seed of doubt in their minds in a single meeting (Merlin, how he loved immediate gratification and hated patient planning!), but a few year’s worth of discrediting the pureblood agenda as subtly as he was capable of could yield rather efficient results.

He needed time alone to think, but the sisters were here and as much as he wanted to leave, he would be punished for not entertaining the guests and he’d hate to leave Regulus to Bellatrix’s clutches. For now, he wouldn’t broach the topic himself, but see if the conversation ever reached a point at which he could make a reference.

“So, Gryffindork, how does it feel being a blood traitor?” asked Bellatrix. Well, that didn’t take long.

“Your blood doesn’t actually constitute how good of a witch or wizard you’ll be. I mean, there are plenty of muggleborns and half-bloods who are better at school and with magic than some purebloods. The Crabbes, for example, compared to say, Minerva McGonagall, arguably one of the most formidable witches of her generation.” Bellatrix snarled in response, while Narcissa picked up a book from a table near her chair, though Sirius could tell she was only pretending to read as she watched over the book what Bellatrix and Sirius were doing. Narcissa was, after all, only twelve now, and not yet a master at hiding her spying. Andromeda meanwhile continued her perusal of the shelves, as though wholly uninterested in the conversation.

“Gryffindor through and through, I see. Already turning on your family.”

“I have no interest in turning on my family, thanks. Just ‘cause my personality is different than theirs’ doesn’t mean I wish to abandon them. Though granted, my mother is quite a bitch.”

“Language.” Andromeda called neutrally from where she stood. Bellatrix glared at Sirius and stood from her chair to stand intimidatingly over him. Regulus, meanwhile, was merely frozen where he stood, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Sirius and Bellatrix while the confrontation continued, unsure what to do or say.

“You disgusting little twit. You ought to learn to respect your elders. You forget, I can caste magic now without consequence. For example,” she chuckled darkly, “ _Ictuere!_ ” She cast the Stinging hex at his chest but he narrowly avoided it by moving quickly to the side.

“You may forget, Bellatrix, but the same wards that hide this house from the Ministry disguise who actually did magic. I could cast any spell right now and the Ministry would never know. I’ve had a lot of time of my hands and studied plenty of Dark Magic in this very library--do you want me to put that knowledge to the test?” He said cockily, bluffing slightly since he wasn’t entirely sure about the Ministry thing since he’d never actually tested it.

“Why you little brat-!” She rushed forward, apparently momentarily forgetting the magic she had in her possession and instead attempting a physical attack. A sharp reprimand from Andromeda held her back, but barely.

“Bella, if you attack him, you know his mother will seek recompense. Let it go; they’re just words. Ignore him, if you must. We’ll only be here for a few hours more.” Bellatrix, angry at being bested, kept a grimace and look of hatred on her face as she sat back in her chair, playing with her wand in taunt, staring directly at Sirius in an intimidation technique that utterly failed as he went to the shelves, grabbed a book, and began reading. There was silence for quite some time, before Regulus began chatting idly with Narcissa who pulled Andromeda into conversation, followed by Sirius. Bellatrix contributed occasionally, but never once addressed Sirius, choosing to ignore him to the best of her ability in a rather pathetic attempt for a seventeen-year-old girl to act upon as means of unnerving and frustrating an eleven-year-old boy. She also happily rebutted everything he said, no matter what it was. Overall, Sirius was not at all impressed with Bellatrix’s pathetic childishness and let himself be entrenched on a conversation about the tale of Merlin.

When the sisters’ mother came to collect them a few hours later, there was no open hostility, which rather made the evening a success in the mothers’ eyes. Finally the group left, leaving Regulus and Sirius to their own devices as Walburga went off to do who-knows-what.

“Hey, Siri?”

“Yeah, Reg?”

“Why’d you say that about the blood stuff?”

“Because I believe it. If pureblood families continue breeding only amongst themselves, it often produces witches and wizards of low power or even squibs. Look, there’s this thing called genetics, alright? And it’s basically the basis, in our blood, of who we will grow up to be physically. Muggles study genetics and found that the more alike the parents are in terms of ancestry, the more likely it is for the baby to have physical or mental issues. Same thing with magic. Haven’t you noticed the insanity issue in some of the Pureblood families? Or how they’re only able to have one or two children?”

“Well... yeah...”

“That’s because the parents are too closely related. Think: why else would magic insist on making muggleborns if purebloods were enough? We’re losing numbers, brother. Though it’s a threat to our safety in keeping the wizarding world a secret to have muggleborns, more and more are being born because fewer and fewer wizarding children are being born. They’re not stealing magic or whatever the theory is in the magical community--they’re magic’s attempt at saying us from ourselves.”

“That’s... well, it makes sense, but then why would Purebloods have the idea in the first place?”

“I’d think a superiority complex. People want to be inherently better than other people. It’s why people tend to group each other by race, gender, age, etc. They want to be considered better because they want to be superior. I mean, don’t you feel like you’re better than, say, a muggle because you have magic?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, they’ve found a lot of ways to do things that we have to do with magic. They’ve found ways to fly, the radio was invented by them, and they’ve found ways to make light portable without a flame, to make music portable too. You can watch plays whenever you want by having them shown on a device called a television. And they’ve also made weapons that can wipe out entire cities at a time. If they found out about us, since they outnumber us so much... it’s possible they could wipe out the existing magical populations within a few minutes if we were clustered together enough.”

“That’s... kinda terrifying...”

“Yup. But it also means that they’re not lesser than us. They’re even better in a way because they’ve had to overcome not having magic, while we have the advantage of it.”

“... How do you know all this stuff anyway?”

“I read and have a bunch of different friends. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have. I’ll admit, I don’t know as much as I’d like to. I want to take Muggle Studies next year, since I only know what Lily and another friend told me. Just... don’t tell Mother and Father, alright?”

“But why? Shouldn’t they know?”

“A lot of people won’t compromise on what they think of true if the real truth is staring them in the face. This’ll be our little secret alright? Swear it--on your magic, please. For your safety and mine.”

“Okay, Siri... I, Regulus Arcturus Black, swear on my magic, that this discussion of muggleborns and blood purity will stay between me and my brother--”

“Unless I tell you otherwise.” Sirius added. Regulus nodded sharply.

“Unless Sirius Orion Black says otherwise. So mote it be.” Regulus said.

“Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, Reg. Thanks. Now, up for a game of Exploding Snap?”

 

Ideals held closely to one’s heart cannot easily change overnight, or ever, in fact. Regulus was young and able to see logic, to be open-minded, but the other pureblood supremacists were to set in their ways; as much as Sirius wished that those (horrible in his time) people could be saved from themselves, the fact of the matter was that it was simply too late for most of them. Sure, Narcissa had hope, and Andromeda had switched sides after falling in love in Sirius’s timeline, but people like Lucius who’d been inescapably poisoned by their parents’ idealist filth and had no one to drag them to the truth... well, they couldn’t be changed, or saved, Sirius believed. It was unfortunate, but he didn’t give the tenth chances like Dumbledore did. If Sirius had his way, all the Death Eaters would be thrown in jail after trials with Veritaserum.

Sirius wasn’t completely unrealistic: he knew that more would come. Destroying Voldemort and placing his Death Eaters in Azkaban wouldn’t actually solve the problem, especially since people had broken out (been broken out) of Azkaban before. No, that didn’t solve the issue, it just left the problem to the next generation, which caused the Second Wizarding War against Voldemort in the first place.

The problem itself needed to be solved, but that problem was the presence of an ideology not unlike Hitler’s--a superiority complex stemmed from the need to be better, to be of inherently more intrinsic worth in society. But blood doesn’t mean a damn with magic, and it’s time the Purebloods realized, if Sirius himself had to drag the British wizarding world (for Merlin knows the rest of the world doesn’t have this problem anymore) kicking and screaming into the modern era. The rest of the world had caught up; now, it was Britain’s turn.

The problem was, as much as he loved to consider what needed to be done, he still had the fundamental problem of not knowing how to accomplish his goals.

He could take a position at Hogwarts after he graduated to teach students in a decade or so. He could ask Dumbledore to initiate classes on it. He could demand legal equal rights and begin a crusade to remove all the corrupted officials from the Ministry. He could even leave Voldemort to destroy Britain before destroying him to begin magical Britain anew.

But none of that was a guaranteed solution, much less enough to actually change people’s minds (and he wasn’t so heartless to go for the last option anyway).

So Sirius was stuck, again, wishing there was someone he could ask for help, but no knowing anyone he could fully trust with the issue that would be capable of helping.

He didn’t trust Dumbledore or those most loyal to him for the second war (he trusted the members that had been solely in the first war more). He didn’t trust the neutral families to help either, since it was to their safety to continue pledging neutrality. He obviously didn’t trust anyone who showed anti-muggleborn beliefs.

However, that did leave the members of the first Order of the Phoenix--those who had died or been otherwise unable to serve in the second, reconvening of the Order. That list was rather small, given that he only trusted so many of them as well:

Lily, James, Remus, Alice, Frank.

And, there was another person he trusted, who was exceedingly close to Dumbledore and partially blinded by him, but could be forced to see the light if he presented the evidence... Minerva McGonagall.

McGonagall was something of a last resort though, because it would take a while to remove her from Dumbledore’s fan club to see that his idealism was not actually helpful in a war and before he could finish convincing her, there was always the possibility that she’d report to Dumbledore. Besides, there were multiple spies at the school, beyond the students and faculty, spreading into the ghosts and portraits.

Lily, James, Remus, Alice, and Frank were all too young.

Damn it, who else did he know that could help him?! Not his family, not his friends, not his professors. Who was at a reasonable age right now and could be convinced to aid his endeavors to bring about the Dark Lord’s demise and the end of the blood purity belief system that’d been tearing apart Britain?

Or maybe, and this was a big MAYBE, he could search outside of Britain for help. Merlin knows the non-British world is waiting for Britain to catch up. Or maybe he just wasn’t seeing what was right in front of him: Voldemort had recruited creatures for the war, mostly non-Beings, because they could be tricked into believing they’d be free, while more intelligent creatures would never fall for the lie.

Yes, that was an idea. Who would have so much power, yet be overlooked? The answers came to him within moments.

The goblins and the house elves.

The Goblins run almost the entirety of the wizarding economy in Britain, yet were disrespected and treated like filth. The house elves had powers that wizard-kind knew not and never bothered to learn, too confident that they were nothing but lowly servants, meant to do menial tasks like cooking and cleaning. But house elves went unnoticed, and goblins had the power of money.

Yes, those two would be invaluable allies, but Sirius had little to offer them.

He could offer the goblins money, but it would be only a drop in the bucket to them. He could offer all the goblin-made items in his vault, but it would again hardly make a difference. He would love to offer them more rights, but he was in no position to offer such, having no authority whatsoever over goblin rights. He couldn’t offer them equality since the wizarding world would reject them that; he couldn’t offer much of anything at all, but to offer a means of eliminating a threat to their way of life and perhaps a show of strength that could easily backfire on them.  
The house elves, he could offer little more to. If their masters were killed, they could be potentially safer. He could offer money, but they had no use for it. He could offer a home if they were cast out, but only after he had his own home. House elves on the side of the Light might want to save their masters, but they might also seek their master’s permission, thus leaking the news and nullifying the efforts.

He could offer very little to either species, he decided with a tired sigh. Sometimes, he wished Harry was back, so he could talk to him, have something worth fighting for... but he had something worth fighting for.

Lily. James. Regulus. Remus. Frank. Alice. All those that would die or be hurt by the war. Little Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron... they deserved a better future than that. They deserved his best efforts.

And so, he continued planning and thinking and wondering.

 

Ideas are hard to fight. They’re intangible, like smoke, and impossible to stop at a source. An idea lives on long past it’s creator’s time if properly nurtured and nestled into people’s desires. Ideas cannot be defeated, but they can be made to fade into the sands of time if another idea takes precedence.

But how can one integrate an idea that is unpopular in a short time-span? People have to be convinced that it was their own idea, or that it is advantageous to believe it--or claim to believe it. Moral uprightness means little to most of humanity in the face of money or power. The only other way to change an idea rapidly is to teach children, in no uncertain terms, strong morals that often contradict what the parents say. When the parents say one thing and the government or schools say another, the child grows up believing their parents more often than not, but those few that learn the lesson pass it on and eventually the numbers grow.

So the way for Britain to change was to change the government and the schools, since the parents were mostly useless. However, as easy as it sounded in theory, it would require decades of work--decades that Sirius wasn’t sure he was patient enough for.

So he needed to plant the idea around, get others on board, preferably adults, so as to start changing the government now. But to do that, there also needed to be dozens upon dozens of positions open in the Ministry and at least one truly convinced teacher at Hogwarts. He needed to have as much of the Ministry brought up on charges of accepting bribery, professional bias, profiteering, etc. as he could, but first, he decided to work on the easier part: a teacher at Hogwarts.

 

Sirius wrote James later that summer, hinting that they should meet up since Sirius was so bored. James happily agreed and Sirius got to visit the Potters for the “first” time and positively insisted that James’s mother would make a wonderful teacher. After a while, she began to agree that it might be a good idea one day.

Actions start with seeds of ideas planted.

 

The Ministry thing was harder to figure out with the Death Eaters to account for. Several Death Eaters profited from the Ministry’s state and would take drastic action (early) if the Ministry underwent any major reforms. So he had to start small and ensure that plans aligned so that he could eventually knock down all the dominoes in his way at once, like a well-coordinated orchestra. But he, again, had the issue of getting ahead of himself. So he considered how one would best begin setting up a political upheaval.

First, mostly on a vendetta, he’ll admit, he wanted to keep Umbridge from ever entering office. She was probably a paper-pusher now, or a secretary, hoping to make her way up the ranks with underhanded means.

Maybe he was a horrible person, but he asked Tippy, his aging house elf that dies in approximately two years, to do a favor for him and never tell anyone. He promised the aging elf, his nanny when he was a babe, that what he’s doing is for the good of the future; he could tell that she didn’t believe him, and that hurt, but she did as he asked, unable to do otherwise or risk severe punishment.

He owled in an anonymous tip once he got a little info on the Ministry ranks with a self-updating book in the Library that he hides so hopefully it won’t be used for nefarious purposes. The tip said that the woman is in possession of veritaserum and blood quills that she kept in her desk, which Tippy herself put there. Tippy seemed disappointed in him, even when he explained that Umbridge is a horrible, nasty lady who enjoys doing harm to children. And that’s when he got the idea to include Tippy. Sure, he couldn’t include Kreacher, but Tippy would die soon, but he could ensure that her last few years are full of the adventure she hasn’t had since Regulus turned six. She couldn’t look after anymore children, but she can return to doing good in the world beyond caring for baby Sirius and Regulus or cleaning sheets. So Sirius asked for her to swear an oath not to say anything--that she promised, knowing she would die soon anyway because she’d rather die having done some good in the world than betray her little master--and he told her everything.

His first life, Peter’s betrayal, his time in Azkaban, his friends’ deaths, but little Harry, and the first and second British wizarding wars, the Veil, and his trip back in time. Tippy didn’t believe him at first, but she could tell that something had been wrong with him since the summer before his eleventh birthday. Honestly, with magic, it wasn’t so impossible. With a spit-fire house elf on his side, he knew he already had an advantage no one would see coming. He only wished that she had lived longer than two more years. Tippy was fond of him; he knew that, but she didn’t necessarily trust him to have her best interest at heart. She didn’t think he was the best person in the world, had no unrealistic beliefs that he was capable of saving the world. But he swore to her, in that dimly-lit room that he was trying to do right by Britain and do right by her, so she agreed, and that was that.

 

Sirius stared at the book from the library for hours, wishing he’d taken classes on Spell Creation so he’d know how the hell the book worked and how to make it show who was corrupt. Sadly, that wasn’t an option, so he had to rely on what he knew of the Death Eaters. He knew most of the first round and plenty of the second and knew that any Ministry employees with extremely close relations to the Death Eaters had to be removed from office. He started with the Death Eaters themselves.

By the book, he already knew seventeen Death Eaters in the Ministry and within a month, had devised plans for every single one of them to be found of illegal activity on his command. Sure, some of the charges were on a hunch or completely fake, but they still legally had to be investigated and--if they weren’t--he planned to send an anonymous owl to the Daily Prophet, who’d be all too happy to stir up trouble.

It would be truly sad if it worked because then the Ministry would have been manipulated by a twelve-year-old. Well, the letters are to be send (with whatever necessary “evidence”) on his command. Maybe it makes him a horrible person, but it would open up an investigation for which he has every intention of allowing to expose the Death Eaters’ identities. It’s a little sad that he couldn’t have known before traveling back in time that he would need to know the crimes the individuals had committed while employed by the Ministry, because as _an adult_ he might have managed it. Now, he had much less going for him. So he had to do a little planting of evidence, but the Death Eaters would expose themselves, in theory. If not, he’d just have to plan a little more manipulation.

But that was all for another day.

 

Sirius wanted the summer to be over. Honestly, he was sick of his parents, and Regulus would be joining him at school this year, though he had to keep him away from the wrong crowds. Sirius himself wasn’t quite sure what his mission for the year would be. He wanted to devise a way to ascertain and destroy the three remaining horcruxes, but he had no means of getting into Lestrange Manor to take the Cup, nor did he have any desire whatsoever to face Voldemort before destroying all of his horcruxes and at present, Nagini and the Diary were with Voldemort in Wiltshire, assuming that hadn’t changed over the summer.

As much as he wanted to sit back, relax, and enjoy his second year, he felt as though he couldn’t. Sirius was driven now by the desire to see this through, to see Voldemort become no more than a distant memory by the time Harry is born. He wanted to keep those he loved safe and prevent the war that had terrified the British wizarding population before. Sure, it was a lot for one person, but he had plenty of reasons to do so. He refused to waste the rest of his life, like he’d done in his twelve years in Azkaban. But he couldn’t enjoy his life until the bastard was dead, his Death Eaters no longer a threat, and muggles, muggleborns, and “blood traitors” safe from life-threatening danger, if not unfair unequal treatment in general.

Sirius had ideas, but not the means to enact them, or at least not solid plans of how to do so. He tended to rush into things after a little chaotic planning where he’d eventually impulsively make a decision. Azkaban had, if nothing else, forced him to reconsider his actions, the consequences of his actions, and his methods of planning. Still though, he didn’t know for sure if his efforts would have positive results or blow up in his face.

He saw three main steps to making Britain safe:

1\. Eliminating Voldemort and his Death Eaters from ever returning to society by a) destroying Voldemort’s horcruxes, b) killing Voldemort, and c) ensuring the death or arrest of every Death Eater

2\. Neutralizing all the Death Eaters’ most loyal supporters from acting in the Death Eaters’ defense or to their benefit and

3\. Teaching wizarding Britain that they are wrong, forcing them to see the error of their ways, and ensuring the next generations aren’t so stupid and prejudiced

Sadly, of the three, the first was the most straight-forward. Sirius had to kill Voldemort and have the Death Eaters arrested. As hard as it may be to accomplish, it had tangible, measurable goals. Cutting off the Death Eaters’ support was harder, since Sirius didn’t know for sure who was loyal to the cause and who had the means to help the Death Eaters if Voldemort fell. Teaching Britain was also an endeavor with more complication, since it involved trying to teach people and have them accept that lesson, rather than just telling students something and having it go in one ear and out the other. Sirius sometimes missed the simple reactionary doctrine of the Order of the Phoenix, but he also realized that they’d accomplished very little. Most of the Death Eaters had been alive and not in prison, while the Light’s numbers had grown smaller and smaller.

While the first objective was the most straight-forward, it also needed to proceed efforts toward the second and third objective. The threat posed by the allies of the Death Eaters was large, given that they could be forced into joining the Death Eaters in the right circumstances and because they were in positions to free the Death Eaters from Azkaban or help them in other ways. The key to stopping the mess itself was through education, but that required teachers in key areas who would promote the right message and not be overly-opposed by those in power now.

Sirius was always of the opinion that Lily would make a wonderful Charms professor when Flitwick decided to retire--or a Muggle Studies professor. James would be good at teaching Defense, if he put his mind to it (and was properly motivated). Alice was particularly gifted at Transfiguration for her age, managing even a few wandless transfigurations later in life, but she would be a wonderful teacher’s assistant for McGonagall. Still though, Sirius’s friends were currently only twelve and he knew no one older who could spread the right message.

He could talk to Dumbledore about it, but he doubted it would help. The school needed a bit more subtlety than Dumbledore would offer by making a class on it, enraging the purebloods who would love to remove their children from such “horrible lies.” Subtlety was necessary until Voldemort and his followers were no longer an issue.

Sometimes Sirius hated contemplating on the issue: he felt like he was only going in circles, unable to set any solid plans in action because that required time he didn’t want to spend on the issue. But he did have an idea and it started with tutoring.

 

Sirius was happy to have Regulus with him upon his return to Hogwarts. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Regulus this time around, it was just... he didn’t like the uncertainty of what Walburga could be poisoning his mind with while Sirius is away. Maybe he was hovering too much, being overprotective of Regulus this time (Merlin knew he wouldn’t likely get another do-over), but really he just wants the kind of brotherly connected he hadn’t had with Reg since he was went off to Hogwarts the first time, all too happy to leave his family and all things related to it behind and in the past. Unfortunately, that had included Regulus, and to his dismay upon further reflection, Sirius never really tried to convert Regulus to the Light, assuming that he would go Dark and not attempting to counteract that possibility. In that way, Sirius was guilty of leading his brother down the wrong path.

He would do better this time. Better for Regulus.

Ever since he came back, that was the part that seemed the least real to him. Everything else was just a consequence of the mission, but to have Regulus alive again felt like he was wading through a dream. But now, having him on the train, laughing at his joke--it felt real. He could not mess this up. Not again.

So he introduced Regulus to James and Remus. He’d done his best these past months to teach Regulus why the Dark--Voldemort and what he supports--was not right, presenting all the evidence he could find, every point he could make. Regulus was smart; he’d be swayed by logic over emotion. If Sirius could show him the fallacy of joining the Voldemort, he might not do it, might see that Voldemort wouldn’t act upon what he preached.

A niggling voice in the back of his mind insisted that Regulus had never seen logic the last time around.

Sirius ardently blocked out that voice and imagined it burning.

 

Regulus became a Ravenclaw and Sirius stood up to give him a standing ovation. He didn’t know what had led to the change, thinking for sure he would have been in Slytherin (and accepting that fact because Harry had told him he was almost sorted into Slytherin), but still he cheered for his brother and decided to talk to him later.

 

“C’mon, Lils, I think you’d be a great tutor. Merlin knows I need help with Potions and I could pay you handsomely.” Sirius urged. Lily rolled her eyes.

“You do fine in Potions.”

“Yeah, fine, as in barely passing. I mean I can follow the instructions fine, but whatever you do with the changing directions stuff, I need to understand how _that_ works!”

“It’s basic. It you read up on the rudimentary function in potions of acids and bases with...”

 

“You’re doing it again.” Sirius commented, rolling his eyes with a smile. James glanced at him, trying to look blasé.

“Doing what?”

“Mooning over Lily Evans.” James spluttered in response, rapidly turning as red as Lily’s hair. Lily was thankfully much farther down the table and not able to hear him.

“I am _not_ \- How dare you- You just-just--shut up.” James said, hiding his blushing face by turning toward the table. Now that Sirius was seeing this all over again, he wondered how he didn’t pick up on James’s crush until fourth year. Sirius was at least limiting the pig-tail-pulling this time around, but James was still trying to impress Lily however possible and staring at her longingly in class.

“You know...” Sirius started. Remus, tired from his last transformation, looked up wearily, worried what Sirius might have in mind. James had yet to look up from the table except furtive glances.

“I might know a way you could impress her.” James’ head shot up, eyes wide.

“How?!” He hissed.

“Well, I heard she’s gonna see about tutoring people, moi included because Potions _bleugh_ and she seems to appreciate smart people... What if, I don’t know, you tutored people in defense. Show how knowledgeable you are. I mean, you are in the top three percent of the class, and that’s beating most of the Ravenclaws...” Let it be known, Sirius was not above a little buttering up to encourage (usually bad) behavior.

“That... could work.” Remus said, astounded. “Way to go, Siri, you actually gave good relationship advice. Or you could do what I said in the first place and just _tell her you like her_.” Remus finished. James rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, right.” James insisted, sure that a straightforward approach would not be in his best interest. Sirius mentally rolled his eyes at his friend. Maybe his insight was an age thing, but pre-teens and teenagers always had to do things the difficult way, it seemed. Remus was right, of course, but Remus himself would never put the advice into practice due to his low-self-esteem from his furry little problem. Sirius had vowed to help Remus with his confidence and this was the year to really get on that. _How_ was... yet to be determined.

 

Regulus was apparently doing well in Ravenclaw. He’d been pretty shy at first, but he’d helped some people that were stuck outside the dorm get in by answering a riddle that had apparently stumped the lot for the past several minutes. Sirius wasn’t quite sure how Ravenclaw worked, but apparently that was one of the best ways to make friends, Regulus assured him.

Sirius personally was very glad for Regulus. He’d worried how he would do being sorted into a different house and thus probably making different friends, but Regulus seemed to be happy and was politely cool whenever he came into contact with those that had been his friends once upon a time. Sirius was secretly happy that the house rivalry prevented the formation of a strong friendship there, but he would deny it if asked.

Remus had a not-so-secret crush on Regulus apparently and Sirius was vacillating between encouraging the relationship’s formation because they’re both his friends and being horrified because they were both his friends.  
Remus and Regulus? Honestly! It was just so... weird! Regulus was completely oblivious, but Remus was less subtle than he’d like to be. Sirius decided to leave that particular can of worms untouched, hoping it would work out or go away on its own. Thankfully, Remus’s crush toned down a lot over the year. Sure, Sirius had worked on making Regulus form his own opinions on pureblood stuff and other big issues, but he only had a few months to counteract ten years of brainwashing by his parents to overcome; Sirius wasn’t sure Regulus would want to see Remus. Hell, even if the blood purity wasn’t an issue, he didn’t know if Regulus was even _gay_ since he’d never remembered Reg dating anyone at Hogwarts.

Thankfully, James and Lily were being less difficult this year. Lily and James were friends, though not close ones. Sirius tended to be their friend who they could pass messages through. Lily might not like James yet, but James was smitten and Sirius was doing his best to prevent any pig-tail-pulling.

Still, everyone was twelve, so he wasn’t all that interested in assuring anyone’s love life yet. But he would throw a fit if Harry wasn’t born because James and Lily didn’t get together. He missed his godson.

 

Classes were easy, just as they had been last year. Homework was annoying because it took so long, but since he opted out of joining the Quidditch team (unlike James), he had enough time to go to the Room of Requirement most days, when he wasn’t working with James and Remus on the Marauders Map, working with James to become an Animagi, or talking with Regulus.

Lily probably would have called it unhealthy, this obsession with the map in the War Room of the Room of Requirement and trying to plan out a method of taking out all the horcruxes.

Patience was _not_ one of Sirius’s strong-suits. He just felt so useless, staring at the map and reading all of the books, but finding himself unable to develop a means of ascertaining and destroying the three remaining horcruxes. If he didn’t act soon enough, Voldemort could make another one, making his job that much harder.  
He was on a deadline, but he didn’t know if Voldemort even knew of the other horcruxes’ destruction. Sirius needed to do something now or he was going to go insane.

The Diary and Nagini were in Wiltshire; the goblet was at Lestrange Manor. Neither location would be easy to penetrate unnoticed. The Diary and Nagini were both likely within the residence where Voldemort was staying while he began recruiting, while the goblet was within Lestrange Manor where Rudolphus and his mother would be staying while Rebastan was at Hogwarts. Bellatrix and Rudolphus had a marriage contract to be fulfilled in the coming winter, so as of now, only Rudolphus and his mother would be at the manor.

If he wasn’t careful and they alerted their house elves of an intruder... then he was screwed. But, as realization dawned, there would be an opportunity for him to infiltrate the manor.

The wedding! He’d been forced to attend last time and he’d be forced to attend this time as well. Last time, the venue had been a gorgeous (he was loath to admit) field in Wales. No one would be at Lestrange Manor! Unfortunately, he still had the trace on him, so he wouldn’t be capable of magic during this adventure unless it was self-defense... unless...

Many of the older houses, familial ones passed through generations and generations, had magical protections on them, often resulting in a house where underage practice of magic by children would not register at the Ministry. It was complicated magic that had been mostly lost to time, so much so that even Black Manor in Grimmauld Place did not have the warding. But Lestrange Manor probably would.

Still, he needed to use magic as little as possible on this adventure because he couldn’t be sure. He had until the winter hols to figure out his plan.

While he still had legal access to his magic, he created a portkey to the area around Lestrange Manor and set another one to take him back.

He had a lot of planning to do, even if he couldn’t act for several months.

 

Sirius was bored. Bored, bored, bored. It wasn’t a new occurrence by any means, not since he came back. He’s been mostly bored since his return, unable to simply enjoy his life knowing that he has a mission to take down Voldemort before he can ruin any more lives, especially his friends’ and families’. Most of the time he’s been restless, feeling unable to actually accomplish anything, with most activities being exceptionally dull because he’s already lived through them, so they are repetitive.

Some things are already different.

He’s on good terms with Regulus who is a Ravenclaw this time around. James is mooning over Lily without any mean-natured teasing. Remus has a crush on _Regulus_ of all people. Snape isn’t quite the git he was before. Peter’s basically integrated himself among the ‘Puffs, and who knows what else is different.

The problem is the question of how much change these differences will have on the outcome. It’s no longer _predictable_ which was really his major advantage at the start of this. He knew the events that would occur, when, how, etc. But as soon as he went back, as soon as he made one minor tiny change, other things had to change as well. His past couldn’t be repeated, which in many ways was a good thing because he didn’t want people dead, Peter a betrayer, and spending twelve years in Azkaban for the murder of his best friends which he didn’t commit.  
He wanted things to be better and he was making gains for that in the short-term, but the overall big picture? He had no way of knowing how his actions had changed the end-results so many years down the line.

Could Harry be born? If Lily and James had a baby boy even a day early, he wouldn’t probably be the same Harry that Sirius knew. And if Harry was born, he would hopefully never be orphaned and have to live with the Dursleys--an event that surely shaped who he was.

Sirius hadn’t wanted to admit the horrifying possibility before--that this opportunity, while helping him save his past, would also prevent the good aspects of his future.

Every time he thought of it, he felt his throat close up, his eyes water, and his breathing come in gasps or not at all.  
Madame Pomphrey said they were panic attacks.

Most of his friends didn’t know since he was reasonably good at hiding it. Remus knew because he was so often in the Hospital Wing for his post-full moon werewolf recovery, but he understood why Sirius would not want his friends to see his moment of weakness and promised not to say anything unless his life was in danger.

He both wanted to mourn and never wanted to contemplate that his future might not work out. What if he had nothing to worry about? What if it turned out fine?

~~What if it didn’t?~~

**_(Warning! Brief contemplation of suicide ahead!)_ **

He tried not to think about it, but as he lay awake for the fourth night in a row, listening to Peter’s soft snores and James’ murmured sleep-talk, he wished not for the first time, that he’d never been brought back, never been cursed this way.

He wasn’t anyone’s savior. ~~Harry had been the one who was supposed to-~~ Sometimes he wished he’d just died that day at the Ministry.

Maybe everyone on his side had died after he fell through the veil, as Bellatrix’s killing curse quickly traveled towards him. Maybe they all perished--would have perished?--in the seconds following his fall.  
Maybe this was a cruel joke by fate, trapping him in his head, allowing him to change the past only within a dream. This could all be fake, a vision in his mind with no real affect on the real world. Maybe the veil trapped him here, endlessly reliving the years from age 11 to 35.

Maybe he would never know happiness, peace.

 

 _No_. He couldn’t think like that. He’d only turn into an empty shell of a man, hiding away. He was a Gryffindor! He couldn’t hide from this, not until he knew for sure. He had to operate under the assumption that he was currently changing things, that the changes he made would be for a better future.  
He had to. Or he would probably kill himself.

**_(Over.)_ **

 

Sirius would love to say that he’s a good person, able to forgive, able to show mercy, able to learn from his mistakes and be wholly and unselfishly a good person.

He is not that person, though.

He can rarely forgive. He’d never forgive Peter and he can’t help but treat this version of him poorly.

He isn’t good at showing mercy; it’s a lesson from his parents that he actually took to heart. Sure, Dumbledore preaches to immobilize or stun only, but Sirius was willing to do borderline dark magic, enjoyed it even. Hell, he was would have happily cursed Peter with a Crucio before killing him once upon a time. He wanted to make the enemy _suffer_ , to _burn_.

Sure, he’s learned from some of his mistakes. But only after they can’t be taken back, only after he had no options but to wish and wish that he could have done things differently. Even then, he had a penchant to blame others for his mistakes, to believe that he was right in his original actions, despite all evidence to the contrary, to avoid the responsibility of the outcomes to his actions.

He had a vengeful streak a mile wide and a temper to match it, barely cooled by time. Sure, he thinks with age (and a lot of time in Azkaban with nothing to think about but his past mistakes), he’s learned to be more logical.  
He’s avoided confrontation, he’s even been more accepting of others. He’s trying to teach people the lessons he’s learned, help his friends. He’s trying to fix the things that had gone wrong last time, to save lives and fix the world.

To do good.

But he’s only human and Merlin knows he has a long list of issues by now. He might use logic more now, but he isn’t Regulus; he’s still more driven by his emotions than logic more times than not, though he hates to admit it.  
Sirius Black is not, by any definition, a _good_ person. He can try and try and try, but he will never be selfless, never not go to horrible extents to protect those closest to him. He is a selfish person that generally acts for good, but that does not make him good.

It’s a lesson he’s had a hard time swallowing. It’s a lesson he knows but cannot accept most days.

Sirius Black is not a good person. He tries, but he acts to his benefit, not the world’s. He should not be anyone’s savior, but he’s the only hope he can rely on this time around.

He trusts others, sure, but only to an extent. He would never tell anyone of traveling back in time, not if it could be helped.

Sirius Orion Black--SOB--is not a good person. But for now, he tries to be. But do not think, even for a second, that he is anything but what he is. He will easily and without a thought or remorse, kill for those he loves.  
And he will have to, if all goes according to plan. He will take this burden so others don’t have to. But it is for his benefit that his friends not carry this weight.

Sirius is a selfish man; he is not a good person.

He is just a person, nothing more, nothing less.

 

Somedays Sirius is so tired of it all that he doesn’t want to get out of bed. Maybe it’s depression or something or maybe he’s just a self-absorbed spoilt brat with a woe-is-me complex. But honestly, Sirius just wants to be done.  
Either kill him or give him the means to complete this mission. Because he wants to be done with this shit. If he can’t make a difference, improve this world, then what’s left? What’s left after this mission is complete?

He never found someone to love romantically, never had kids to dote on, or a stunning career to take up his time. Half the time, he wonders what the point is. To all that has led him to this. Why?

Why Sirius?

Somedays, he wants the world to handle its own damn shit and leave him the hell alone. Let him just forget all the terrible shit that happens, let him live in the here and now, not in some distant past--future?--that will never happen again.

He gets to maybe save the world, but it’s also destroying him.

~~He wonders if Harry felt this way at all.~~

Sometimes he forgets.

Forgets that he’s actually 35 (36 or 37 by now, he reckons). Forgets that he has this mission to save the whole damn wizarding world. Forgets that James and Lily of his time are dead. That he hurt Remus. Forgets that Snape isn’t Snivellus; forgets that Snivellus isn’t Snape.

His head can get everything so damn jumbled up. He has to forget the past so he can live in the present, but he has to remember the past so he can save the future.

What bullshit.

He’d like to say he’s okay, that he’s getting by. But all he can really focus on is his mission. It’s the only thing keeping him sane right now, to have short-term and long-term goals. Because if he can’t do anything now, then he remembers and wants to lay in bed, to tell the world to solve its own damn problems and leave him the hell alone.  
Then he remembers James’ lifeless eyes. Lily’s red hair fanning across the floor while Harry wails from his crib, somehow comprehending that his mother won’t get back up. Remembers Azkaban, hearing of his brother’s death, hurting Remus, Voldemort’s red eyes, Harry’s fear and the maturity he shouldn’t have for his age.

It’s an endless soul-sucking cycle.

Sometimes he doesn’t want to get out of bed.

But he makes himself because it’s all he can do.

Sirius tries not to think about it too much.

 

He knew his friends were concerned. He was slacking in schoolwork this year, though he was doing better than ever before in potions. He was pranking less, talking less than before.

He’d withdrawn a bit, the novelty of time-travel finally wearing off. Reality was threatening to crash around his ears, drown him. It felt worse than a Dementor attack, the waiting, the fear, the paranoia, the pain.  
Madame Pomphrey had directed him towards some books on mental health, seeing that something was wrong. His friends could see it too, to an extent.

But Sirius was only twelve (almost thirteen), according to his body. He felt really, really old nonetheless.  
The only way to pull himself out of this--this depression--was to help himself. To find a purpose, to go out and talk to people, to not close himself off anymore.

It wouldn’t go away, this feeling of helplessness and pointlessness. It never would, he reckoned. But he would be okay if he stopped focusing on what could have been, what had been, and focused instead on now and the future.  
He couldn’t go back; he could only go forward.

Once he accepted that... it got a little better. Just a little, but it was a start.

Baby steps.

 

Regulus was happy when Sirius was acting okay again. He’d been withdrawn, unusually quiet for several months. By the beginning on December he was cheering up again, talking again, and Regulus was ecstatic. He wanted his brother to be okay.

Maybe he’d been sick.

Nonetheless, Regulus was happy to see the change in his brother, how he returned to his usual pranking, outgoing, mischievous self. He didn’t know what had been bothering Sirius, but he was happy to talk to him again, to argue and mess around with him like normal. His brother had been acting strangely for a while, like he’d gained a new-found maturity and weight on his shoulders. Sirius was trying to help Regulus and just about all his friends. Sirius seemed to be taking responsibility for every little thing these past few months; Regulus was all too happy when he started acting himself again.

The shadows were still in his eyes, but the light was back in them. He’d pranked the whole school, including the teachers, and was happily laughing about it with James. He’d convinced Remus to make new friends. He’d gotten James interested in schoolwork for once, if only to impress Lily. He made sure Regulus was happy and making friends and carefully pranked anyone that said a word against him. He’d been encouraging Alice and Frank to be less shy.

Though he’d been trying to hide it, Regulus knew Sirius was working on becoming an animagus so he could help Remus when the full moon came along.

He’d been trying to encourage inter-house unity even, sitting with Regulus at the Ravenclaw table sometimes or dragging Regulus with him to the Gryffindor table. He’d been making an effort to get people to be friends. He’d even been polite to the Slytherins, unless they started the fuss.

Sirius had been trying so hard to make sure everything within the school went well. When Regulus finally saw a chance to help him for once, he was only too happy to take it.

 

“What’s this?” Sirius asked warily looking around the room. Regulus replied happily,

“A surprise party.”

“... My birthday was November 3rd.” Sirius countered, eyes suspiciously looking at Regulus.

“Yes and we couldn’t celebrate then because of your Transfiguration and Potions major tests and that awful Herbology essay you told me about. But! James, Remus, and I were talking and we thought of this, so... Surprise!” Sirius’s paranoia faded off his face to be replaced with a stunned bemusement as he glanced around the room. He hadn’t quite taken it in before, too surprised by the whole ordeal, but now that he knew what was going on, he couldn’t help his amusement.

Sirius’s friends had decorated an empty classroom to have couches, streamers, posters, etc. A table in the center of the room had a dozen or so little gifts to go along with the gifts he’d already been given. Lily was laughing about something Frank said in the corner while Alice chatted with James and Remus in the other corner. Narcissa had apparently deigned to join the group, standing awkwardly in the center of the room with a goblet of pumpkin juice. Several other second and first year students were around the room, mostly conversing with each other rather than paying attention to Sirius, but he honestly didn’t mind.

Regulus was still beaming at Sirius. Sirius shook his head as he processed all of this then smiled back at Regulus and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered into his brother’s neck. Regulus pulled him tighter forward before foisting him off with Alice and James. Remus quickly struck up conversation with Regulus about classes and Sirius joined James and Alice’s discussion about Slughorn’s favoritism.

Later, he found himself talking to Narcissa. He carefully avoided any conversations about politics or blood purity, but found that she had very interesting opinions on the elective classes for next year. Narcissa wasn’t really a bad person, he realized. Before he’d known that she was a potential ally, but hadn’t really thought much about it. He’d never really thought about her as a person, just as an abstract cousin, an idea. Now he could admit that he could see himself getting along with her alright. They weren’t friends, but now they would say hello when they passed each other in the halls.

Frank and James met to discuss Quidditch strategy, while Remus, Regulus and Sirius discussed the reasonableness (or lack thereof) of requiring a solid potions grade to become an auror and the benefit to several professions. Lily and Narcissa had a conversation in the corner about the use of certain plants’ medical purposes and the use of poisons in healing.

Later, house elves provided cake and butterbeer. Sirius opened the presents, getting little nicknacks and some muggle band t-shirts.

Sirius never stopped smiling for the whole party.

 

While the late birthday party was brilliant, Sirius still had other things on his mind. As Christmas neared, so too did his mission and Bellatrix’s wedding. He had a plan, but he felt it wasn’t going to be enough. He could only hope that his plan would work.

He needed to get that horcrux.

Time was too fast and too slow at the same time. Sirius was eager to finally _do something._

As he rode back to London on the train, he could only hope that things would work out in the end. He felt again for the portkey in his pocket and smiled as Regulus continued explaining what he planned to get various people for Christmas.

 

On December 21, Sirius put on his scratchy formal robes and glanced over himself in the mirror. His cousin’s wedding was today. He didn’t particularly want to attend, but he had no choice as his parents forced Sirius and Regulus to attend cousin Bellatrix’s wedding to Rudolphus Lestrange. It was a formality, rather than an actual familial closeness than brought the Blacks to the event. Reputation was everything in pureblood society.

Sirius steeled himself as he heard his mother’s horrid demanding voice calling for him. He’d hated Walburga since he was a baby. He’d been viciously happy when she passed, only to suffer her painting self after escaping Azkaban. Honestly, he desperately wanted to ensure that she never had a portrait made of herself and was willing to invest most of his life savings to the endeavor. Still, he didn’t argue as she took a too-tight grip on his upper arm and apparated him to the venue, Regulus and his father appearing only seconds later.

It was the same venue as last time. Sirius mentally sighed in relief as he pulled out of his mother’s hold. He (im)patiently waited for the service to begin, happy to be sitting toward the back. He quietly asked Regulus to cover for him while he walked the distance to the bathroom in the building on the far side of the field. Walburga gave him a glare as he got up, but politeness dictated that she not cause a scene; he could tell that she would yell at him later, but it was not an issue to focus on right now. Once he got to the building, he waited for the portkey to active and was a quarter of a kilometer out from Lestrange manor within seconds. He’d been gone from the service for approximately 4 minutes.

He walked towards the entrance, happy but anxious when he wasn’t stopped as he opened a window and tumbled inside. Hopefully all the house elves were too preoccupied with the wedding and later reception to notice an intruder poking around.

He realized with horrible clarity that he didn’t actually know where the cup would be precisely. The War Room had clarified that the goblet was on the second floor in the master bedroom, but he didn’t know where in the room it was.

He’d now been gone for 11 minutes. He hurried up the stairs and turned to the right, hoping he was going the right way. When that didn’t work, he returned to the stairs and took a left. Finally, he saw the door ajar to the master bedroom. 15 minutes.

He didn’t want to leave signs of his being here. He carefully looked through drawers, into cupboards, and under the bed. 19 minutes.

He didn’t find the goblet. He couldn’t find the goddamn goblet. He’d come all this way and he couldn’t find the goblet. His breathing was coming faster than he’d like to admit as he re-examined the room. It took him another two minutes to see the hairline crack in the headboard’s left side. 24 minutes.

He pried open the compartment with the ends of his nails, and peered inside, terrified of what he might see. After all, what would the Lestrange parents want to keep in the headboard to their bed? Certainly nothing good. But there, in all it’s putrid and rotten glory sat Hufflepuff’s goblet-turned-horcrux. Sirius shivered at the disgusting aura of the thing, shoving it in his pocket with as little physical touch as he could manage.

He felt ill. He felt like he was going to be sick. He felt physically and mentally repulsed.

But he also felt triumphant and he carried that feeling back to the wedding venue, through the service and reception, and all the way back into his room at the manor where he finally threw the thing in the farthest corner of the room.

He knew it would bother him, hurt him to leave it in his room where it could affect him. But he couldn’t destroy this one yet. Couldn’t risk Voldemort realizing that it had been lost. The copy he’d made at Hogwarts should fool the Lestranges, even if it wouldn’t fool Voldemort himself.

That left Nagini and the Diary. Then the Dark Lord would be mortal.

Still, Sirius needed to hurry before Voldemort could create another horcrux. He felt as though he was running out of time, not knowing when Voldemort had created his next horcrux in Sirius’s past life or if he had even created more than the five Sirius knew about.

He was happy to have captured the cup, but wary of the influence it could have over him as he stayed in his room for the next few days. Though he’d made leeway on his horcrux hunt, he still had two more to find and it wouldn’t be easy.

Sirius worked on writing up another plan.

 

Regulus was concerned for his brother. First, he had been happy, ecstatic even before Hogwarts his first year. Then he was upset during Regulus’s own first year’s fall term. He’d been cheerful briefly before the winter break when his late birthday party occurred and the weeks following it, only to be saddened again after cousin Bella’s wedding. He didn’t know what was going on with his brother!

Until he had a realization.

He was jealous! Sirius was jealous of people having relationships. It would explain the Bellatrix thing and why Sirius was upset now in his second year--he had a crush that wasn’t reciprocated!

Regulus found himself evaluating the whole school to see who Sirius could have a crush on, before concluding that Sirius wasn’t the type to pine from afar: whoever he liked, he was likely friends with. He thought back to the attendees of the party.

Narcissa was out, for obvious reasons. James and Lily were out since he was pushing those oblivious idiots together. He was rather uninterested in Alice and Frank on the whole, interacting with them in a friendly manner, but always referring to them as a unit, as though they were married or something. But whenever Regulus saw Sirius and Remus together, Sirius always got a kind of shifty look about him.

Sirius obviously liked Remus! Besides, there was a secret that Sirius, James, and Remus knew about that Sirius wouldn’t tell Regulus.

Regulus worked on developing a cunning plan to get Remus and Sirius together. He just wanted his brother to be happy.

 

Having a horcrux in his room sucked. He was irritable, quick-tempered, and unable to concentrate. When he finally got back to Hogwarts, he was all too happy to safely store it away in the Room of Requirement. When he had safely hidden it away, he returned to the War Room only to get a shock. The Diary had been moved--it was now in Malfoy Manor.

Well, that changed things.

With a sigh, Sirius altered the plans he’d spent hours developing (with little success) to account for the new location.

Meanwhile, Regulus plotted.

 

As Regulus watched Remus and Sirius interact more, he couldn’t believe how he’d missed it. They always acted like they were keeping a secret! Remus had poor health and had to stay in the Hospital Wing a lot and Sirius always seemed really concerned for him during that time. Sirius was also paying Remus more attention than he did James, encouraging him to talk and interact with others, to be ‘loud and proud’ or some such nonsense. Remus was shy, but Sirius was going out of his way to get Remus to be less painfully self-conscious. While it was good for Remus, Regulus only hoped Sirius would get the Gryffindor courage to ask him out.

Well, Regulus was a Ravenclaw, and he was set on getting Sirius and Remus together if it was the last thing he did!

 

Sirius had no idea how to get into Malfoy Manor, much less how to get the horcrux without alerting anyone. He didn’t have the convenience of a wedding this time around. And without having a way of knowing if Voldemort knew about the destruction of his horcruxes or not or had added any extra protections around this one, he felt rather helpless. Sure, he’d certainly succeeded with capturing the cup, but the convenient timing had almost made it seem as though fate was on his side. This time, he would not be so lucky.

Narcissa didn’t marry Lucius for five more years. Sirius couldn’t wait that long.

Sirius had... well, he had one idea. But it would be rather difficult to accomplish and involved Kreacher’s unending loyalty to Regulus and having Regulus unerringly entrust Sirius without knowing the purpose or details of the mission.

Basically, Sirius needed a miracle.

Otherwise, he could plead with Narcissa to use her arranged marriage contract to go pilfer Malfoy Manor, but she would need sufficient information and a benefit to her. It was beyond a stretch--it was nigh on impossible.

The last option was rather equally unfavorable. He would need to portkey outside of Malfoy Manor like he had Lestrange Manor, hike towards the building and enter without being seen or stopped, search throughout the third floor to find the diary without causing a scene or leaving evidence of his being there, and portkey away without being spotted or raising any alarms. Oh, and he wouldn’t be able to use magic either, except in dire consequences because he couldn’t be sure if the Malfoys had the old protections that didn’t register underage magic. So that was Plan B (because the Narcissa plan barely warranted consideration and had thus become Plan C).

Sometimes, Sirius wished he’d been born with the smarts of a Ravenclaw.

 

Regulus’s ingenious plan was going dreadfully. Sirius remained completely oblivious of the openings Regulus had left him to spend quality time with Remus. Remus himself seemed miffed that Regulus was trying to foist him off onto his brother, not realizing the opportunity that Regulus was trying to grant him. Honestly, everyone knew that Sirius was probably Remus’s best friend, slightly closer to him than James; Remus was one of Siri’s best friends too! It was perfect if only those bloody fools could get their heads out of their arses! Honestly, it was so frustrating to Regulus.

He wanted them to be happy, but Sirius was oblivious and Remus was upset. He needed a new plan.

 

James Potter was in love. L-O-V-E, love. At least that’s what Sirius said. So James had a crush on Evans, so what? She was pretty with her red hair, striking green eyes, lovely smile... James shook himself out of his daydream and tried to focus again on History of Magic--a useless endeavor if ever there was one. Within seconds, James felt his attention slipping back to the redhead in front of him. With a sigh, he gave in to the thoughts of Lily.

She was certainly intelligent and very curious. She was clever and insightful. She was nice to everyone, even to the slimy snakes in Slytherin. Like Snivellus, who clearly had poor intentions toward her.

He was a git, plain and simple. His greasy hair and standoffish demeanor didn’t help with his rather lacking and nasty personality. He was a prick who enjoyed riling James up. Sure, they never got into any actual fighting, but they hated each other with a passion. James had been sure that Sirius would have just as much animosity, but it seemed that he held himself back, remaining cooly polite to the snake. Snape didn’t afford him the same privilege most of the time, so James had centered more than one prank around Snivellus and Snivellus alone.

Lily seemed convinced that he was redeemable, but James thought she’d been reading too many stories. Honestly, the git wasn’t going to change just because she batted her eyelashes or because James became _polite_ to him. Remus seemed to avoid him entirely, though he and Snape had no animosity beyond the house rivalry.

Snape had issues. Seriously, James knew that. He was a possessive toad who didn’t have considerations for others’ feelings, who felt that the world was out to get him when he was actually the cause of his own demise, and he felt entitled to Lily Evans just because he knew her first.

Sure, he was good at potions, but that didn’t make him a good person. He was just a bloody tool.  
Still, in front of Evans, he had to be polite to the prick. Ah, Evans...

If there were any copies of parchment with _Lily Potter_ written on them, Sirius and Remus would never tell. (Sirius had saved copies to show Lily when they actually got married.)

Looking down at his mostly blank parchment, he felt a frown form on his face. The lecture was almost over, he thought, but he’d taken almost no notes. Remus was diligently wiping his eyes and writing as Binns continued babbling. Peter was daydreaming again.

Sirius was asleep, snoring slightly; Binns was oblivious. Lily would look back every few minutes at a particularly loud snore and roll her eyes, obviously unimpressed. James personally was rather happy for his friend. Sirius hadn’t been sleeping all that well in the dorms, so James was all too happy that he was getting some sleep now. Besides, he had a dicta-quill recording the lecture for him; James would need to ask to borrow his notes, as usual.  
James felt a bashful smile work its way onto his face as Remus glanced at James’s notes and sighed at their lacking length. Honestly, James didn’t know how his friend managed to stay awake in class. If James didn’t use the time for daydreaming, he was sure he would follow Sirius into dreamland.

Binns voice was just so... monotonous. Droning. Dull.

James shook himself out of his daze as the bell rang to signal the end of class. Hastily, he stuffed his things carelessly into his bag and ran out the door to lunch, where he was meant to be tutoring Helen Whittener in Defense while he would secretly be glancing ~~frequently~~ at Evans to make sure she was watching and knew how smart and helpful he was. See, Sirius? He wasn’t in love, he was just an upstanding citizen. (He ignored the fictional Sirius’s laughter because even in his head, Sirius was laughing at him.)

 

Remus didn’t know what was going on. He felt utterly clueless as to why Regulus was now pushing him away. Did he realize that Remus had a crush on him? Did it upset him? Or did Regulus realize he was a werewolf?

No, no, that didn’t make sense because Regulus wasn’t running for the hills. He didn’t seem afraid of Remus at all, just... strange. And why was he always asking Remus about Sirius? It was really getting on his nerves.

Clearly, Regulus and Sirius needed to have some sort of talk. Remus would make sure it would happen because this was getting bloody ridiculous.

 

If anyone could have seen Sirius now, they might have said he was channeling young Hermione Granger. Of course, seeing as she hadn’t been born yet, they might instead have to settle for comparing him to a Ravenclaw.

Sirius was at the Library. He did recognize the merit to knowledge, he just didn’t particularly like the search for it. Still, he’d resigned himself in his first year to much reading and research for the quest to defeating Voldemort and his henchmen.

The War Room had been a great boon to him, a miracle, yet his work was far from over. Knowing the locations of the horcruxes was very different than holding them in one’s hand--or better yet, holding the destroyed husk of one, preferably after Voldemort’s demise. Well, he’d rather not hold Nagini’s corpse, but the point stood: Sirius wanted Riddle’s horcruxes destroyed. First, he needed to get the Diary, even if he had to pry if from Malfoy Sr.’s cold, dead hands.

Sirius Orion Black was on a mission.

He turned the page in his book with a sigh. Yes, he was on a mission, but he was also terribly, horribly, _painfully_ bored. Just as in the last several trips to the Library, his research had turned up little of note in relation to the horcrux hunt. Though, Sirius would admit, he’d found multiple avenues in which he’d like to further research later for sheer enjoyment (and, occasionally, pranking because some things never really change).

Nonetheless, he was mostly rather unenthusiastic in his leafing through the pages, no longer enjoying the adrenaline rush on a job completed. It was now April, and no progress had been made. His options remained the same as before, given that he’d found no better (or more accurately, any more likely-to-work) solutions than the three already stated.

The dots on the map in the War Room seemed to mock him. In summation, he’d made no tangible progress since capturing the Cup.

Well, that is to say, he’d made no progress on defeating Voldemort. He had made some progress elsewhere.  
Regulus had made fast friends with a few of his roommates and had even become good friends with Remus, James, and Alice. He seemed... happy, certainly more so than he had been in the past timeline. Sirius could only hope he was safer too.

Remus was somewhat more social than last year. Sirius had forgotten how much time and effort he’d originally put forth to get Remus more talkative. He had an advantage on his younger self though because he knew what methods generally would and would not work on his friend, saving a lot of time for trial and error. Still though, Remus was painfully shy and self-conscious, unfailingly aware of his werewolfdom, seeing it as a curse that physically manifested his own low self-worth.

Sirius, though he would never say it, wanted Remus to accept who he was and his being a werewolf as a part of him, just like his intelligence and curious nature. It wouldn’t change, so it had to be accepted if Remus ever wanted to find peace. Sirius thinks Remus’s inability to accept his fate was a major contributing factor in why the curse was so hard on him, why his wolf was so violent and self-destructive.

Sirius, however, didn’t know what the hell was going on with Remus and Regulus. Remus’s crush was still there, though hopefully it would go away soon, but Regulus, who was somehow oblivious to this fact, was pushing him onto Sirius. It was almost like Regulus was trying to play matchmaker and set up Sirius and Remus! Sirius shook his head at the ridiculous thought. He wanted no part in whatever weird romance thing those two might have going on, though he supposed if they got together, he would be happy for them to each have someone.

Sirius turned another page and stared at the clock, willing time to move faster. He’d gone back in time, yet in no other instance was time apparently on his side. Sirius sighed again and resigned himself to another twenty minutes of reading before he could take a break with a sugar quill.

 

Sometimes, Sirius dreamed that the time travel was all a dream and that he woke up back in the present with the Order trying to plan out how to counter the information Snape had brought them. He would see Molly, Arthur, Tonks, older-Remus, Albus, Mad-Eye... and he would be at peace. Sure, they were at war, but he knew his place, even as an outlaw, and he had friends that he trusted with his life. He may not have a big part in this war, but he knew his role, knew what he was allowed. And though he might not have been content with that, he was at peace with it.

He was... happy. It was a terrible thought, in a way, to be happy when at war. Just thinking of that strange dream, he was all too happy that it had simply been a dream.

Then he would wake up and remember that this was his reality. That the past was now his present. That he could never return to his old life, yet he couldn’t forget it either because he needed whatever advantages it could offer him.

Sometimes, Sirius wished someone would leave him a set of instructions for the remaining horcruxes, then obliviate him of the whole mess. It wouldn’t work, being far too complicated, but Sirius longed for the bliss of ignorance.  
When he had these dreams, he often had to lay awake for a few minutes in his bed. He’d taken to keeping a journal of what had happened, what day it was, where he was. He wasn’t stupid; no one could read it and it was encoded too, but it helped somedays. To see a written account of his accomplishments, his last several months. To have tangible proof--as good as he could get, that is--that this was real.

If it was a delusion, he wasn’t sure he would want to wake up anyway.

 

By May, Remus had had enough. He was sick of whatever was going on with Remus and Sirius. He’d tried to stay out of it and let the brothers deal with their own issues, but it seems that they both had problems actually communicating with one another.

Remus was done sitting by and waiting; he decided on a very cunning plan.

He would lock those two in a room and not let them out until they sorted through whatever this was.

So when classes finally ended for Friday, Remus decided it was as good a time as any (and the longest he could make himself wait with his already stretched-thin patience). Remus lured Regulus there, having already told Sirius to meet him at the room where James and Sirius were trying to become animagi (and they thought Remus didn’t know).

Sirius was antsy about whatever it was Remus wanted. He didn’t remember a confrontation like this last time and didn’t know what it was Remus could want to discuss. How did he even know about this classroom? Had Remus been spying on him?

_Did he know?_

When he saw Remus appear with Regulus in tow, his confusion only escalated. What on earth was going through Remus’s head? He didn’t have long to wait to find out.

“You need to--pardon the language--sort your _shit_ out. Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but it’s been going on long enough.” Remus led the two into the room, and in their conclusion, they obediently followed.

“Whatever this is, please Merlin, _fix it_.” Remus said before hastily running from the room and locking it. Sirius knew better than to try an Alohamora. Part of the reason he, James, and Peter had chosen this room last time had been because it had to be opened manually, so without a key, Sirius or James picked the lock each night. Regulus, however, didn’t know and immediately tried spelling the door open to no result. He could pick the lock, of course, but he really did want to talk to his brother about some things.

Sirius plopped down on one of the various pillows he and James had collected for the room over time and Regulus gave him an incredulous look.

“What, you’re not even going to try?” Sirius just shrugged.

“Look, Reg, he has a point. I mean, you’ve been acting weird this year, especially these past few months. I’m really happy you made Ravenclaw and I swear I wasn’t lying when I said I would support whatever house you got in to. You’ve made a lot of friends in your year and even convinced Cissa to come to my birthday party. You’re friends with my friends and I talk to you now almost as much as I did in school, but a lot of our conversations lately have been completely off the wall. What’s going on, Regulus?” Regulus squirmed guiltily in place, unsure how to broach the topic.

“Well, you see...,” he paused to consider his wording, “You’ve been... distant lately. I mean sure, we’ve talked all the time which is great! It’s just that whenever we talk, you always seem... preoccupied. But you’ve also been acting pretty sad, which I never expected you to, not with all your friends and your pranks and stuff.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why you keep talking about Remus whenever you and I talk or how you keep giving me these weird looks. It’s not about being sad or anything, you look... I don’t even know how to describe it,” Sirius replied. He knew he’d been less enthusiastic this year about his studies or pranking. Hell, he’d pranked maybe half as much as last year, leaving James to pick up a lot of the slack--though he’d convinced Remus to join a few times, firmly establishing their reputation as the Marauders of Hogwarts. He’d been distracted too, working on ensuring Remus’s confidence, that James’s crush never turned to hair-pulling, hunting the horcruxes, researching at the Library, trying to pretend to be okay, working on becoming an animagus again (though it was easier the second time around), and trying to remember the spells and passwords for the Marauders Map that was over halfway complete now, _and_ trying to make sure Regulus was doing well in school and making friends and generally not straying too far from his brother.

Basically, he was trying to do a lot at once. He didn’t realize that Regulus might see that as being upset and not fully invested in his brother’s care. But nothing could have prepared him for Regulus’s next words.

Looking somewhat bashful now, Regulus replied, “Well, I realized you had a crush and was trying to help you win over Remus.”

“You _what?!_ ” Sirius had completely lost all understanding of the situation. He had no bloody clue what the hell was going on now. Maybe he’d finally gone loony and needed to see Madam Pomphrey again for schitzo-whatever it was.

“I mean, it makes sense. He’s a good looking bloke, though I didn’t know you swung that way until recently. You keep talking to him, trying to bring him out of his shell, and you’re always really concerned when he’s in the Hospital Wing. It’s just--” Sirius was not proud of how high his pre-pubescent voice went when he screeched in response,

“I don’t have a crush on Remus!” Regulus’s eyes had gone wide in response, trying to understand. Sirius was rather in the same position, unable to comprehend what in Merlin’s name was going on. Sirius’s breathing had turned somewhat ragged in shock and horror and his eyes felt as wide as saucers. He knew he must have the stupidest look on his face, but he couldn’t be arsed to care when he was so completely uncomprehending.

“I--Merlin, no--he has--and I was trying to--oh, Merlin.” He was shaking his head in incomprehension, watching as Regulus’s face shifted from surprise to confusion then to a state of horror as well.

“You... don’t?” he squeaked. Sirius lacked the air for anymore words and simply shook his head mutely. This was the first big surprise since coming back to the past and while it was rather refreshing to be surprised for once, he could only focus again and again on the fact, like a muggle tape recorder going off in his head on replay, _Reg thinks I have a crush on Remus_ and _but Remus has a crush on Regulus_. Now, he could visibly see his brother trying to understand, trying to defend his previous statement.

“But--but you’re always watching him, always smiling at him and talking to him. You’re always worried about him and overprotective and--and...”

“Because he has the self-esteem of a flobberworm. And he’s always ill and I care about my friend. But _only_ as a friend. Besides, he li--” Sirius cut himself off, realizing that he was about to admit Remus’s crush on Reg which was absolutely not his place at all.

“You... you don’t like Remus. Uh, _like_ like Remus.” Regulus appeared flushed in embarassment at having misunderstood the situation and Sirius himself was blushing at the implication because no he didn’t fancy Remus, thanks.

“No.” Sirius wanted this conversation to be over.

“Oh.” The response was breathy as Regulus’s eyes remained wide and he turned so he wasn’t looking directly as Sirius anymore.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed. “Pretend this never happened?”

“Oh, Merlin’s beard, _yes_.” Sirius nodded his head and the two remained silent, each trying to understand what had happened and figure out what to say next.

“Then, if you haven’t been upset about Remus not returning your feelings... why were you sad?” Sirius thought fast and tried to keep the sour look off his face as he replied, “Uh, puberty.” Sirius could slap himself, but Regulus averted his eyes again, blushing. Sirius wanted out of this conversation all over again. Thankfully, Regulus appeared to accept the answer and didn’t ask for details, prompting Sirius to internally sigh in relief.

“So... how was your Potions exam?” Sirius questioned awkwardly, glad when Regulus likewise latched onto the change in subject. Soon, the earlier conversation was forgotten and Sirius pulled out the kit he always kept in his robes to unlock the door. Sure, call him a paranoid bastard, but Remus wouldn’t lock them in without being sure Sirius could get out. He’d just hoped that Sirius would wait until after talking to Reg, which did happen.

Remus was outside in the hall, reading a book on poisonous plants, and glanced up when he heard the door click open. He silently bookmarked the page and turned towards the brothers.

“And?” he questioned, trying to be unobtrusive.

“Everything’s sorted.” Remus looked upwards and mouthed something that resembled ‘oh thank Merlin’ before smiling at the two brothers.

“Well, my work is done. I’m going back to the common room. Oh, Regulus, Nadia was looking for you--something about a Defense project? I told her you would get back to her when you could.”

“Um, thanks.” Regulus was blushing lightly, no doubt feeling embarrassed at having thought Sirius had a crush on him and trying to pair them up. Regulus beat a hasty retreat, leaving Remus raising an eyebrow at Sirius who shrugged helplessly and walked back towards the common room.

Sirius honestly felt somewhat refreshed, to have had his mind taken off of all the other issues at hand. He wished his only problem was his brother trying to play matchmaker. Still partly embarrassed but mostly amused, Sirius shook his head silently and decided to go out and fly for a while. Today, he decided, he would act his physical age.

He felt truly young again for the first time in decades.

 

Though Sirius had decided to embrace his youth again (which he’d been pretty adamantly denying himself except in appearance since he went back), he knew he wasn’t mentally thirteen again.

He still woke up sometimes, screaming from memories of the Dementors. He knew that would be his boggart too.

He remembered with startling clarity having thought ‘ _shit_ ’ as cousin Bellatrix’s bright green curse shot towards his heart.

He sometimes hated that he felt more connected in a way to the teachers these past two years than the students because he knew _(had known)_ several of them on a first-name basis in the Order. Sometimes he still messed up and called McGonagall ‘Minnie,’ but everyone put that down to him just being his normal daredevil self. Sirius sometimes slipped.

He’d called James Harry once and had to explain that he was really really tired and yes, he knows his best friend’s name, thank you. He spent too long staring at James’s eyes in order to remember they were brown and not green.

He wondered why Remus looked so young and healthy.

He saw Lily and did a double take.

He remarked on McGonagall’s lack of gray hairs and thought for a moment that she must have dyed it.

He saw Peter and had to stop himself from bodily throwing himself at the traitor or calling him nasty names.

He had to remember to censor his language because he was freakin thirteen.

He saw Narcissa in the hall and had to remember that she wasn’t the enemy.

Sometimes he just forgot.

 

He never heard Voldemort’s name and it was both a comfort and it scared him.

 

He was glad that when he woke up, he was almost immediately aware of his surroundings or alone in his bed with the curtains drawn. He’d been putting silencing spells on his bed since the first damn day of school and was ridiculously thankful that James had never tried to prank him at night and had started the habit of knocking on his bedside table before pulling the curtain open.

He had nightmares and he had memories and everything in between. He was depressed and had who knows how many issues (something called PTSD?), but it wasn’t all bad.

Really, it wasn’t. People were alive; people were happy. He was on reasonably good terms with cousin Cissa and thus cousin Andy. He talked regularly to Regulus. Remus was more extroverted than he’d been since Sirius’s fifth year and had the snark to match. James and Remus were prank masters (Remus had the best ideas, even if he didn’t want to take the credit) and without Peter, they’d decided to be better friends with Frank, Alice, and several of the other students in their year. Lily was friends still with Severus who was less nasty. Sirius had tried to get Lily to talk to her sister so she wouldn’t be the nasty sod that raised Harry the first time around. Hell, Peter was happier having basically joined the Hufflepuffs.

And Sirius was happy-ish too. Admittedly, he’d been happier in general when he was _actually_ thirteen, but he figured he was doing well given the circumstances. He was doing well in school and had actually taken some interest in the subjects since he already knew what was being taught, meaning to save himself from the boredom of hearing everything for the second time, he’d decided to actually do some research and compare what he’d learned much later to what was being taught now. He’d been asked to tutor a few first, second, and even third years in Transfiguration because he knew the secrets that the teachers thought were too complicated to teach yet.

McGonagall seemed half-convinced that he was a prodigy so he purposefully made himself miss a few questions on her written tests. Thankfully, ~~Albus~~ Professor Dumbledore hadn’t taken half as much interest in him since he had no idea yet about a war brewing. If the timeline remained the same, even the small hints wouldn’t show themselves for another two years and any real indications would take another year and a half past that. Sirius didn’t know what he’d do if Dumbledore stuck his nose in.

He respected the man, but also knew how he liked to be in charge of things and would say that Sirius was too young (he was over thirty, so anyone that said that could kiss his--).

There were other good things too. His birthday party had been fun. He was good friends with Remus, James, and Regulus again. He was talking to Lily and being tutored by her in Potions which he had happily forgotten as soon as he took his NEWT. He had more time to fly by himself and think about things than he did when he was on the Quiddich team. He might even join next year if they’d sorted out the map.

He was on the second-to-final stage of becoming an animagus and thought he might be able to finish by the end of June. He’d decided to take enjoyment out of the little things again, savoring pumpkin juice and treacle tart. He’d made a sort of arrangement with several of the kitchen’s house elves. He’d made good use of the Room of Requirement, not just for the War Room, but also to sort through his old memories or play muggle music so loud he could barely think or whatever the hell he wanted.

It was kind of an escape from having to be alright.

Though life sucked sometimes, he really was happy to be back. He wanted to make a difference. It wasn’t all bad, really. Maybe he was depressed and maybe he had issues, but he was doing okay. Moony and Prongs were with him, Lily was there, Alice and Frank were there, Regulus was there, and hell, even Severus was there. Though sometimes he wished he hadn’t fallen through the Veil, more often than not, he was alright with the path his life had taken. He wasn’t necessarily alright, but he really was getting there.

He was acclimating to this reality.

He still didn’t know what he’d do when Voldemort was dead.

He didn’t think he wanted to be an Auror again. He was rather sick of the responsibility.

He wanted to do something different. Maybe he could teach Defense like Moony had or become a cursebreaker. Just something different. But now he was finally thinking about life after Voldemort when before it was his only goal.  
He felt he was getting better at this. Sure, he had his bad days, but he was adjusting. He didn’t have the single-mindedness of before. He could think beyond ‘I must do a, b, c, and d’ and think ‘I want to sneak out to Honeydukes.’ Just for the hell of it.

Sirius felt happier than he had in a long time.

 

June was halfway over the Sirius hadn’t even decided on a plan for getting the Diary. Once he went back to King’s Cross, he wouldn’t be able to do magic for two months, meaning he needed a plan _now._

He still only had the three plans from before, though he’d worked on them. He couldn’t approach Narcissa unless the first plan failed because he had no incentive to offer her and really didn’t want to have her get it and then obliviate her or anything.

Portkeying outside Malfoy Manor had some merit since it had worked at Lestrange Manor, but people and house elves would be present and he’d probably be dead before he got to the front door.

That left only one option and Sirius was loath to use it. But for time’s sake, he didn’t have a choice.

He couldn’t wait another year just to have the Diary change locations again. He needed results now.

 

Unfortunately, Sirius didn’t know what the Diary looked like, so he couldn’t easily make a fake. Harry had described it as a thin black book with yellowed paged that was blank on the inside and said only T.M.R. on the outside. Sirius did his best to make several copies so that one might actually resemble the book enough to fool Abraxas Malfoy, but he couldn’t be sure. In procrastinating having to confront Regulus, he made dozens of fake Diaries and spelled dark auras onto them, copying what he could of the aura from the Goblet so that he could fool the Malfoys even if the book looked slightly different.

With four days left in term and exams half-way through, Sirius finally went to Regulus.

 

“Oh, hey, Siri.” Regulus said, looking up from his History of Magic notes and a book from the Library. Notes alone were never enough for that class, but Binn’s never changed his tests, so if you knew where to look, you could find all the information you needed without much trouble.

“Hi, Reg.” Sirius awkwardly commented. He knew he looked shifty, twitching where he stood, his fingers never still. Regulus looked mildly concerned, but knew that Sirius had picked up the unfortunate habit of drinking coffee in the mornings in his first year and with exams, he figured his brother was overly-caffeinated.

“I, um... Well, I need a favor.” Regulus cocked his head and fully looked up from his notes, putting his quill down carefully so as not to spill the ink on the end.

“What favor and what terms?” This is why Regulus had originally been a Slytherin. Sirius figured his Ravenclaw and Slytherin tendencies were fairly balanced the first time around, but Sirius’s own influence in asking him to rethink his entire understanding of pureblood politics had inspired him to favor wit over pure cunning. Still, Sirius had worked on how he would answer a Slytherin rather than a Ravenclaw in this situation.

“I need your implicit trust, no questions asked, in borrowing Kreacher’s services for a day over the summer. You give me that, I’ll tell you how to get into the Restricted Section.” Regulus’s eyebrow raised.

“Elaborate,” he commanded. Sirius had expected this and continued smoothly despite his twitching, trying his best to channel cousin Cissa.

“I need Kreacher’s services for the date of the 23rd of July. You would not be allowed to question me or to question him, nor may you order him to tell you anything, or I will know and ensure you receive the blame for some rather nasty mishaps at home. In return, I tell you how to enter into the Restricted Section _with permission from a professor_ for all of next year. Do we have a deal?” Sirius had made the date up at random, but he knew he needed to be as specific as possible so that Reg wouldn’t have any reason to question him. In assuring deals such as these, Reg’s Slytherin side would always come out.

Regulus was internally burning with curiosity, but Sirius knew how much he wanted into the Restricted Section. They had all _sorts_ of interesting books in there--and to have permission was an added bonus. Though he wouldn’t be allowed to ask questions by the terms, once he had the means to enter the restricted section, he could ask and Sirius would have no leverage--except.

Sirius seemed to know far too many of Regulus’s secrets and could easily use any number of them in retaliation for asking--he was Slytherin in that way. He would, generally, use any means to achieve his ends. He also knew Sirius had a bit of a sadistic streak and would return any blows more than equally, meaning challenging him would not be to Regulus’s benefit.

But he wanted into the Restriction Section more than he wanted to risk Sirius’s wrath or give up the opportunity entirely.

Regulus smirked and nodded.

 

Sirius knew what he was risking. How much his play could cost him if Regulus asked questions or Kreacher didn’t use his utmost discretion. Sirius was less hostile to Kreacher this time around, but their interaction was still far from pleasant.

He needed Kreacher to want to please Regulus more than he despised Sirius.

It was a gamble.

Sirius prayed to Merlin it paid off because if Kreacher failed, then everything could fall apart, nullifying nearly everything Sirius had accomplished against Voldemort so far. If Kreacher failed, then he would have to involve others, tell people what was really going on. His efforts would have been wasted because Voldemort’s defenses would increase a hundred-fold. He had one shot at this and only one or his entire game plan would need to be altered into something completely unrecognizable.

He prayed to Merlin some more.

 

After returning to Grimmauld Place, time moved with the molasses-like slowness of waiting. Sirius was restlessly counting down the days to the 23rd of July. He’d finished his summer work within the first week of returning to Black Manor. He’d organized and reorganized his entire room. Twice.

He’d holed himself in the Black Library for hours to waste time. He’d gone flying when he could, but he lived among muggle London. He tried taking up chess.

He was anxious and bored until finally, _finally_ the 23rd came around.

He knew what happened next would determine the fate of his future. He had to hope that Regulus would stick to the terms he’d presented and that Kreacher was loyal enough to Regulus that his loyalty to his younger brother would outweigh his personal hatred of the elder brother.

He had made an additional gamble--deciding that to make sure Kreacher did what was required rather than slacking off, Sirius would have to accompany him, increasing the risk of discovery tenfold. But it was a risk that Sirius could not have avoided, given his personal involvement in the entire endeavor. He could not blindly trust Kreacher to accomplish this job on his own, knowing how the house elf hated Sirius.

Admittedly, Sirius’s own Gryffindor tendencies did play into his decision. He’d missed the action, though he knew he was gambling by coming along. Kreacher would be more happy alone, more likely to accomplish the goals as listed, but Sirius might need to be there to direct actions if unanticipated obstacles popped up.

There was a reason Sirius had ultimately been placed in Gryffindor.

Kreacher appeared in Sirius’s room grumbling and staring at the floor at midnight, awaiting Sirius’s orders. He didn’t seem to be in a very good mood which didn’t bode well for Sirius--but Kreacher never seemed to be in a good mood.

“Do you know the terms, Kreacher?”

“Yes,” Kreacher replied sullenly. Sirius didn’t comment on the lack of respectful title. He wondered what the house elf thought he would be ordered to do. Sirius grabbed the shrunken diaries, knowing that Kreacher could un-shrink them later, and donned a plain dark robe with a hood, knowing he looked ridiculous, but wishing to hide his identity should Kreacher get them caught and sabotage the night.

“I need you to get me into Malfoy Manor without being caught. I’ll give you further instructions once we get there.” Kreacher’s eyes, still staring mostly at the floor, glanced up for half a moment, widening then sharpening into a glare. Sirius understood now what Kreacher must think--that he was attempting to do some sort of prank to the Malfoys, a respected pureblood family.

And Kreacher just seemed to love pureblood politics as much as Sirius’s dear old hag mother. Sirius felt Kreacher clutch his arm in a painful grip, showing Kreacher’s strong displeasure at the order. Still, Kreacher knew that Regulus had agreed to the deal and to not act in it--unless it would do harm to any of the other Blacks--would be disappointing Regulus.

With the very strange feeling of elvish disapparition, the two disappeared from Black Manor.

 

Sirius isn’t sure what he expected to find when he and Kreacher appeared in Malfoy Manor. He was half-afraid the two would be met with an army of angry house elves or a wand pointed at their faces. Instead, they simply appeared in an empty reception room. Kreacher’s hand left his arm the second the two were on solid ground again, causing Sirius to stumble forwards slightly, prompting him to glare at the house elf. He took a second to breathe before turning to Kreacher.

“Without alerting anyone or anything to our presence, I need to find a blank black book. The side will say T.M.R. and will be in the style of a journal. Search the house and find it.” Kreacher happily disappeared again silently, leaving Sirius to anxiously wait in place for several minutes. Trying to find the Diary would be the part that Sirius dared not join Kreacher for since he would make their being discovered that much easier. Instead, he waited for Kreacher to come back.

Finally, after an agonizing ~~eternity~~ seven minutes, Kreacher reappeared, and without saying anything, grabbed Sirius’s arm to apparate him again. Sirius stumbled much more upon this landing, having not seen Kreacher appear in the first place. He fell to one knee and glared again at Kreacher who was watching him warily. After a few seconds, Sirius broke the silence.

“Well, where is it?” he snapped harshly. He had never had patience with the nasty house elf.

Sirius finally took note of his surroundings, realizing that he was in what must have been Abraxas Malfoy’s personal study--the same one that would one day become Lucius Malfoy’s. Kreacher did not deign to answer verbally this time, merely pointing angrily at the thin black book on the shelf between _The Darkest Arts_ and _A History of Black Magicks_. Sirius rolled his eyes before pulling out the book, trying to ignore the dark aura already beginning to affect his mood.

He turned the book this way and that, studying the pages and the crinkles on the outer leather. Finally, he decided his 29th version of the Diary (he hadn’t kidded around when he was procrastinating) would sufficiently resemble the horcrux and scrounged around in his sack for several minutes, cursing himself for not having labelled the things more clearly. Finally, he pulled out two different ones and had Kreacher bring them both to the appropriate size, finding the correct one and placing it on the shelf in the original’s place. The dark aura from the real horcrux was more negative and invasive than the one on the fake, literally affecting anyone in the proximity’s mood, but Sirius figured that there hadn’t been any signs that the fake goblet had raised any questions, so he hoped this one too would pass muster.

Kreacher looked even more antsy, apparently having finally noticed the aura--or at least being affected by it. He was now glaring at the Diary more than he was Sirius. Sirius knew it was time to leave, no matter how much he wanted to do something nasty to Malfoy Manner now that he’d thought of it. Holding tightly to his self-control he ordered Kreacher to get them back to Black Manner.

Less than fifteen minutes had passed.

Sirius ordered Kreacher to return to Regulus’s services when he woke up, already sick of the house elf. Kreacher disappeared before Sirius had even finished his sentence and Sirius rolled his eyes before deciding where to put the Diary. Before, he’d stored the Goblet in his room, and it had fouled his mood noticeably. He would not be able to stand being in one’s presence for another month. Still, he hated to move the horcrux out of his sight.

Sirius hated to admit it, but the foul Dark magic of the horcrux could be... appealing at times. It was disgusting, yes, but it was also powerful and Sirius had always been drawn a bit to power since he’d felt so powerless in his childhood. However, the allure of the horcrux did not have time to override his senses; he took out the box he’d made at school--or more accurately, had the War Room instruct him how to make--that would hold the horcrux safely inside without allowing him to be influenced.

He wasn’t willing to leave the Goblet at the school unattended so the box already had a horcrux in it. Opening the box, even for a few moments and experiencing a double dose of evil... it was nearly enough to bring a man to his knees.

Hastily, Sirius shoved the Diary into the box and closed it again, rushing to the toilet immediately afterwards, afraid that the nausea might overwhelm him and make him lose the contents of his stomach. Breathing shakily through his nose, he clung to the cool porcelain of the toilet and decided he should have made two separate boxes.

At least he didn’t plan to shove Nagini in a box.

Unfortunately, he would have to kill her right away since who knows what kind of connection she might have to Voldemort. A living horcrux had never been recorded as being a creature capable of speech. Not to say it hadn’t happened, but it had never been written down. Thus, Nagini’s capabilities, being not only a horcrux, but also Lord Voldemort himself’s familiar, were more than just unknown--they were dangerous in the extreme.

 

But Sirius had been neglecting a very crucial part to his own plan. Once the horcruxes were destroyed and Voldemort had been killed, it would not all be over.

The world wouldn’t magically be okay. Hell, by avoiding a fight now, tensions could get even worse in the coming years. Because nothing had been _fixed_. The world was still prejudiced and biased and all sorts of nasty words for _really messed up._

Sirius couldn’t fix the wizarding world itself by himself. Even if he succeeded in eliminating Voldemort and somehow took down his followers (he was working on it), then the hatred, the agendas, those wouldn’t disappear overnight. Nothing except the immediate threat would have been averted.

Sirius needed a way to ensure that the wizarding world would fix itself, cure itself of the poison that was the pureblood fanaticism. One man alone could do no such thing, not without reaching into the very depths of evil to forcefully alter people’s minds.

But like Hermione’s S.P.E.W. campaign, organizing an effort in rapid political change would fail without sufficient support and power. As a thirteen year old still under the legal care of his genetic donors, Sirius was rather lacking in both.

He might _might_ be able to bring change to Hogwarts, it being a small and isolated environment. The plan had merit, being that Hogwarts was _the_ wizarding school in Britain, but given that even the multicultural history of Hogwarts and success of muggleborns had not been enough to change the school in any lasting ways, Sirius doubted he could personally enact much large-scale permanent change over the course of his remaining four years.

Besides, Sirius never understood politics very well. He liked things to be black and white, though he had been coming to the realization over the course of the last several decades that such a dichotomy was merely a happy illusion. The world wasn’t black and white and there was no clear cut ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’

Besides, who was Sirius to decide for all of magical Britain what was right? Sometimes he wished that Hermione had gone through the Veil with him to help him because he felt she would have made a wonderful Minister of Magic.

Nonetheless, Sirius realized that he didn’t want to-- _couldn’t_ \--organize, much less run, a non-corrupt government that was responsible for deciding the law. He was sick of being the one in control, the one with the weight of the world.

Someone else should step in for a change. But he didn’t know who could do such a thing. Sure, Lily was incredible, but even she didn’t have much of a head for politics. Narcissa could probably do it, but she had been brought up with the same filth Sirius was and probably wouldn’t drastically change her stance in the years to come.

Many of the purebloods could be forced into politeness toward muggleborns, but they still considered them inferior. Dumbledore shouldn’t assume a governmental position or they were all doomed to ridiculous uniforms and lemon drops everywhere (but seriously, if Dumbledore struggled to run Hogwarts, he should not run an entire government).

Frank understood politics, but he was far too nice to lead a government, as was Alice. Regulus simply wouldn’t want the position.

Sirius bet McGonagall could do it, if forced. She’d make an incredible Minister if she set her mind to it. Andromeda could maybe do it, having the head for politics and being in love with a muggleborn (if things stayed on the same path, she would marry Ted Tonks next year), but she’d never been a fan of the limelight. Few Slytherins were.  
Sirius needed to stop considering Ministerial candidates and instead focus on the issue itself. Beyond a Minister, the wizarding world needed a modernization--to progress several centuries’ worth in terms of equality, government, schooling (a ghost has been teaching History of Magic for literal decades), culture, and even technology.

Given the current time, home computers were just starting to become a thing in the muggle world (and Sirius kind of hated the muggle fashion of the 80s), but the advances Lily had explained to him regarding muggle technology lead him to believe that it had nearly caught up with the capabilities of magic in many ways, though magic and technology didn’t readily wish to mix.

The wizarding world of the UK was generally so _ignorant_ of the world around it. It had almost completely closed itself off from muggles, but more than that, it had been left in the dust by the other nation’s wizarding counterparts which had all evolved. All except for magical Britain which clung so viciously to _tradition._

Maybe rather than search his allies for a potential Minister, Britain needed a leader from another country to change things around.

But how, without completely disassembling its most basic foundation, can a government be forced to move on from its staunch setting in the past to a modernized version that crumpled tradition and burned previous political stances to the ground? Or would that be a paradox--that to modernize a government, a new government would need to rise from the its predecessor’s ashes rather than evolve slowly because its people could not change?

Sirius really really hated politics.

But despite his headache about the topic, he did need to consider what changes he should personally try to inspire so that an actual change could be made. He needed a clear set of goals.

He decided to make a list.

He wanted the wizarding UK to give fair treatment to all magicals, regardless of background/blood status.

He wanted reasonable consideration given to muggles, rather than having them viewed as inherently inferior or an imminent danger requiring preventative action.

He wanted new policies regarding muggleborns’ integration into the wizarding world and classes for muggleborns and purebloods so that each can understand the other’s culture.

He wanted educational reform to keep class material up-to-date and fact-checked with staff that knows the class’s material and can actually effectively teach it to children.

He wanted the integration of aspects of muggle culture (their music in the 80s is bloody fantastic).

He was sure there was more that he wasn’t thinking of at the moment, but it was a basic list. How to achieve any of those goals within the next few decades however... well, he’d admit, he was a bit lost there.

First, Voldemort’s followers’ allies had to be made powerless to defend the followers if Voldemort was taken down. The Death Eaters and the other various helpers of Voldemort’s had to be arrested and stripped of their political, monetary, etc. power so that their attempts failed at circumventing the government or simply planning a coup to establish a new government with purebloods ruling and muggleborns eliminated or subservient. But another issue factored in to this--how could the bad guys be defanged without innocents like their children being equally poorly affected.

Though it held great irony and was a fate he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies... Sirius thought Azkaban might be the best place for the loyal Death Eaters, and their allies could be put into a regular jail or be removed from all political power with their wealth halved. Or they could all be stripped of their magic--he was okay with that too.

Sirius didn’t think that he should be the one to decide their fates though. As much as he didn’t care what happened to the Death Eaters themselves so long as they were removed from the situation entirely, he also knew how few of the allies knew exactly what they were doing. Several could be redeemed, loath as he was to admit they weren’t wholly evil. Sirius just wanted to defeat Voldemort; please, Merlin, let someone else handle the rest.

He was sick of thinking about how screwed up the world was. He just wanted it to fix itself.

A thought filtered through his mind that Harry much have felt much the same and suddenly wished that he could have had so much more time with is godson. Of all the things he missed in the future, Harry was probably the most glaringly obvious--and ultimately painful.

 

Sirius hated the feeling of not being in control--but he also hated responsibility when it came back to bite him in the arse. While in the wider political situation, he wished to have only a fairly minimal role, in the Voldemort situation, he wanted to take that bastard down.

He’d decided that the government can handle the Death Eater’s allies themselves or destroy themselves trying. But Sirius would handle the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

Even if he didn’t quite know how yet.

 

Sirius hated Walburga. He hated his father too, but his mother was just plain awful. He was rather glad when she’d died the first time, but Sirius would have to wait another few years for her smoking habit to finally catch up with her.

But he had not wanted to muzzle his mother this much since he’d come back in the past. She’d been spouting her usual drivel with father up in his room still slowly succumbing to his case of Dragon Pox. Sirius and Regulus hadn’t been doing anything worth suspicion, both merely talking about cousin Bellatrix’s wedding the winter before.  
It really had been a beautiful wedding, full of black roses and blue/purple belladonna. Overall, the snow made the whole scene extremely captivating; it had a dark beauty to it, like nightshade.

Walburga had entered in on Regulus telling his brother about having noticed several of the pureblood traditions intermingled within the ceremony and which he thought he would like to have at his own wedding one day while Sirius was telling his little brother what he could remember of Lily’s explanation of muggle wedding traditions.  
It was not a secret that Walburga hated muggles and muggleborns, nor that she hated Sirius’s deviations from tradition and his encouraging his brother to do the same. She was immediately incensed and had started the fourth screaming match Sirius had had with her since returning.

“You will do no such thing!” She’d yelled. Sirius turned away slightly so she would not see him rolling his eyes and gathered his things to leave. She’d undoubtably send him to his room anyhow.

“Well, you’ll be dead by then anyway, so I suppose you won’t get much of a say in the matter.” Sirius never could leave without the last word--a trait that had gotten him into a lot of trouble with his parents and teachers alike. Sadly, going back in time hadn’t actually managed to get him to a point of maturity where he could walk away from her taunts (he didn’t think anything could accomplish that). Unfortunately, Walburga likewise wouldn’t let him have the last word.

Things only got worse from there.

The words blended together, old arguments simply repeating themselves. There were no new points to be made, but the two rehashed the argument over again. For whatever reason, Regulus decided to listen to the points more carefully this time, having previously learned to tune them out and stay out of the fight to avoid receiving equal punishment.

Walburga merely repeated the standard pureblood ideology with plenty of insults thrown in while Sirius countered the points with as much logic as he could muster when angry to the point of screaming.

They’re stealing magic; well, no, _mother_ , we’re doing that ourselves with all the inbreeding.

They’re destroying our culture; good riddance to the stagnation of tradition.

They’re mudbloods and filthy; have you felt the rankness of your magic or seen the state of this Merlin-forsaken house?

Blood traitors turn their backs on the society that they grew up in, that raised them for greatness; they’re only turning their backs on prejudice that’s disgusting and biased.

They don’t deserve to have the magic they do; who does then--dictators like Grindelwald and Riddle? Murderers? The dozens of purebloods that think they’re entitled because mummy and daddy are cousins?

They weaken the magic of the wizarding world; I think that’s the inbreeding--after all, Goyle’s a pureblood, Crabbe’s a pureblood, _Marius Black was a pureblood--_

Walburga sent Sirius to his room and promised him a beating later. Regulus left the room as silently as he could when Walburga had her back to him. He’d known both his mother and brother’s stances on these issues before, but now that he was a Ravenclaw, he felt it was his duty to question the logic between both sides.

Without sufficient evidence, he couldn’t really draw a conclusion, but despite his mother’s firmly held beliefs, he felt Sirius’s side held more logic to it. Besides, Regulus thought he’d be extremely uncomfortable if he had to marry his cousin and realized with startling clarity that almost everyone his parents would approve of his marrying was somehow related to him. Regulus had some thinking to do.

 

Sirius was eternally glad when the summer ended. Hopping on the train on the first of September felt like breathing fresh air for the first time in months. He wondered if Regulus felt the same.

 

Destroying the horcruxes had been so solely Sirius’s goal that he’d let plans for the Death Eaters fall by the wayside. Thankfully, the War Room had not.

The Room of Requirement really was an incredible piece of magic; he needed only to think of wanting to defeat Voldemort and his cause and suddenly, the War Room appeared, stacked with books, displaying the map with the blue dots, and doing its damnedest to provide what Sirius needed for this mission.

Sirius wished he had more a plan; thankfully, the War Room did, indeed, conjure the means to help him.  
Books were stacked on the table by the map where three dots pulsed and another red dot had been added to signify the Dark Lord himself.

Sirius had read the books the Room had previously provided, but now he found a wealth of knowledge at his fingertips to deal with the Death Eaters, rather than just the horcruxes themselves.

On the table were the guides to soul-marks, magic-identifiers, and other such marks that Voldemort might have used in an effort to mark his followers. The magic behind them was fascinating, seeing as it was layered to act as both a locator, a summoner, and a binding mark that gave Voldemort himself some control over the person, at least physically, though the mental aspect was debatable too.

What Sirius had previously failed to consider was that the Death Eaters were all connected through their marks to Voldemort. If he had access to one, then he had a means to access all of them. Voldemort himself didn't have on, of course, but he was still connected by the spell.

Sirius was thankful that the Room was capable of not only summoning, but also hiding and conjuring from nothing, items that the recipient needed, so long as they did not leave the space the room provided. For example, Sirius couldn't just walk out with _Soul Marks and How They Work_ by anonymous, but he could read it for hours upon hours in the War Room.

In fact, he'd love to read the rest of the books to some extent, if only because Sirius had found himself inexorably drawn to the nature of soul magic, given both its foul reputation and incredible ability to affect so many different fields. Still, he had not thought--though he cursed himself for not having thought of it earlier--about the potential that the Dark Mark itself was a connection among all the Death Eaters, and therefore an exploitable means of taking all the marked followers down with one fell-swoop.

It was an incredible and inspiring idea, but he also felt as though it was too simple. Sure, he could get all the marked followers, but at this point in the war, Voldemort hadn't taken to marking all of his followers yet. Such an effort hadn't picked up until several more years down the road, unless of course, Sirius’s having traveled back into the past had changed that.

Given that he had already taken or destroyed all but one of the horcruxes and fixed relations with his brother and several schoolmates and who-knows-what-else, he doubted he could count on Voldemort upholding the previous timeline--and he wouldn't want him to.

He wanted to take that monster down before he could do harm to those he loved.

So he studied the books the room presented and read up all he could from the Library on the topic. He knew James and Remus were worried about the bags under his eyes, but accepted it easily enough when he said he was working on a personal research project, though they clearly wanted to ask questions.

Regulus seemed worried about his brother too, concerned that he was so focused on this project and that he might be letting his health fall by the way-side as he was so distracted. He continued to do fine in classes though and seemed happy enough, so he didn't say anything. He'd let his brother come to him if he wanted to.  
Sirius himself felt the all-consuming desire to simply act as soon as he discovered a means of potentially de-fanging all of the Death Eaters at once, but he knew logically that he should wait.

If Voldemort's followers were suddenly all negatively affected, he'd know something was going on. Instead, Sirius had the advantage if he simply waited.

But Sirius did not consider himself a patient man and longed for the day when he could kill Voldemort and bind the magic of his little pets, and maybe have them tossed in Azkaban as a bonus.

But he still didn't have a workable plan for dealing with Nagini and if he even wanted to kill her the same night as Voldemort. Surely, it would present the added benefit that MoldyVoldy couldn't hide out with strengthened reinforcements or anything if Sirius didn't give him the time. Given that he was currently thirteen, couldn't legally use magic outside of Hogwarts, and that he was just one person, Sirius really did need all the advantages he could get.

Still, he wanted to have a plan on which he could work. He wanted a definitive, working plan so he didn't feel so useless here at Hogwarts, unable to do a thing to Voldemort.

He was so close to his goal of wiping out the horcruxes, but so woefully far from the action that he so desperately missed; he felt as though he was going mad. Nevertheless, he diligently read the books presented to him, did the homework assigned to him, and interacted with his friends and brother. Except for his distraction and the bags under his eyes, he seemed almost happier than before.

No one but Sirius himself would know that it was because he finally had something to work on to distract him from his dark thoughts, especially about the life he was leaving behind in the past. Maybe he hadn't sorted through those issues as well as he thought he had. Still, all Sirius wanted to do was to have something to take up his attention, to make him feel as though he was accomplishing something. Sirius had always been a man of action and this waiting around, especially for three freaking years was grating on his nerves. When he had nothing to hold his attention, he felt the icy breath of the Dementors, the impending silence of Grimmauld Place, or the uselessness of not being able to do a thing when the world has gone to hell.

Sirius doesn't care for silence or inaction. But this--preparing, planning, and acting--is his forte and he thrives on it. His friends seemed to be able to see his raised spirits too and were happy that he acting more cheerful, even if they didn't know why. Poor Regulus probably thought he had a crush on someone again.

 

The Dark Mark was a magical bind, connecting all the marked Death Eaters to Voldemort and, in turn, to each other. It was a means of manipulating all that were marked and Voldemort himself, and though Sirius had believed that affecting the Mark seemed like too simple a solution, he clearly hadn’t paid enough attention to the directions in the book.

It would be anything but easy and it would take a few months at best. He needed belladonna, eye of newt, bile of an armadillo, a rat’s tail, a mandrake leaf, a unicorn tail hair... the list went on and on. Some of the ingredients were rather expensive or hard to get (he’d make sure to give Hagrid a list of what he needed) and would take a while to procure without arising suspicion. Truthfully, Sirius was now regretting having not paid much attention in Potions the first time around because even Lily only understood to a third or fourth year level.

This was not necessarily a difficult potion if you followed all the instructions, but like Polyjuice, it would take a long time to make and involved several small directions like a quarter turn with a glass stirrer and adding the peanut oil after exactly ten minutes and twenty-three seconds.

And all that was ignoring the fact that he’d have to be within a kilometer of a Death Eater’s mark to manage the ritual--for it was a ritual, involving both a potion and a spell with specific instructions.

The real difficulty beyond the potion was the changing of the Mark. It was a permanent marker, magic tied to one’s being and thus seemingly impossible to remove. But that gave Sirius the advantage that once the magic was complete, it would be permanent unless someone figured out how to reverse it and went to all the trouble.

The Mark would no longer work to Voldemort’s advantage. Sirius thought there was some poetic irony in that, but maybe he misunderstood what Lily had meant by the term.

He started collecting ingredients immediately.

 

The Marauders Map was finished.

Sirius should be ecstatic, only he wasn’t. Because now Remus and James could see where he was at any given moment, except in the Room of Requirement. He knew Remus wouldn’t pry--unless sufficiently prodded--but James would wonder where his friend was going.

He might even follow.

So Sirius had to be extra cautious, which didn’t tie in well with a mission on a time limit, even a self-imposed one. He estimated that if all went reasonably well, he would have everything he needed to start by Christmas and could make the potion with at least some privacy over the break. He knew James would probably go home for the holiday, as would Regulus. That left only Remus to know of his goings-on in the castle, but Remus would respect his boundaries because he was nice like that.

In the meantime, the search for ingredients continued. Sirius had only had a few of the potion’s ingredients on hand and had had to very sneakily get the mandrake leaf from the second years’ Herbology greenhouse when Professor Sprout wasn’t looking. Hagrid had promised to be on the look out for a unicorn tail hair, but unicorns were fairly particular about allowing any to be taken.

He’d already planned out a raid on Slughorn’s stores sometime next month with James and Remus creating a diversion; Regulus found out and had decided not to tattle on the condition that he went with Sirius. He wasn’t sure if that was his brother’s awkward way of requesting brotherly bonding or if he just wanted to sneak some ingredients too, but he wasn’t complaining.

Sirius just hoped James wouldn’t get distracted by Lily _again_. Honestly, he’s thirteen! How could pine so much?  
Not that Remus was much better; he still hadn’t gotten over his infatuation with Regulus--if anything, it had only gotten worse. Reg remained as oblivious as ever because Remus didn’t pine as obviously as some people Sirius knew, but it was still fairly obvious how he showed favoritism to the younger student.

Regardless of his peer’s love lives, Sirius was on a mission (another one) and couldn’t afford any distractions.  
Then he got a very inconveniently timed crush on Frank Longbottom and it all went downhill from there. Regulus was probably laughing his ass off.

Sirius forgot how damn annoying teenage hormones were and hated that he knew that it only got worse.

 

Honestly, Sirius felt exhausted. After trying for so hard to find a solution to the Death Eaters _and_ to ending the ideology that foreshadowed them, he still didn’t have any better solutions. But what could one man do to end a racist ideal within a few years? To end prejudice without ending free will? To inspire enough that people abandoned the poisoned words they’d instilled since birth?

Sirius didn’t know. He wasn’t a politician or a philosopher. He understood basic human psychology, but only on the most basic level. Albus Dumbledore, as much as he loathed to admit it since Dumbles was a manipulative and often demeaning man, was perhaps the best bet he had, at least until his friends grew up and he could ask them to do their best to influence the world.

That still didn’t answer the question: what could Sirius do to best end the racism of the British magical world without force in the span of only a few years, so that the next generation would be safe?

He could vote with his seat in the Wizagamot, but only once his parents died which would take a few more years--and only if Regulus didn’t get named the heir before Walburga’s death.

He could start a petition (Lily’s idea--apparently it was a common muggle practice?) or start some sort of awareness club within Hogwarts, but he could only keep that up for three years because it wouldn’t be possible to approve and start it before the end of the year.

He could write a book, but he was a horrible author and not good with words.

He could solicit Dumbledore’s help, but the old goat would form his own agenda which would undoubtably only partially coincide with Sirius’s own.

He could become a teacher after graduation, but he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to wait four years before he could do anything (but he did leave it as an option).

He could start a Wizarding Wireless Network show--and that was such a strange concept really--with Remus and even James or Regulus. That would certainly be a fun part-time job and could reach a national audience. It was worth considering.

He could apply to become an Auror again and arrest the Death Eaters, but he would only be able to do that on orders from a superior that was probably a blood supremacist since Kingsley didn’t have the position yet. Besides, he would only be able to act if the follower was marked or under sufficient suspicion _and_ hadn’t paid off the upper levels of the Ministry, which happened all too often.

None of these changed as many minds half as quickly as he wanted, but Sirius was forced to be a bit of a realist and face the facts: one can’t change an entire nation’s racist views overnight.

Besides, he still had to deal with Voldemort and the marked Death Eaters. The rest could come after. Maybe he’d even permit himself a short break (the newfound realism in him snorted at the thought).

 

James was following him. After completing the animagus transformation a second time and after being a dog for over half his stay in Azkaban, Sirius had learned to channel several aspects of his animagus form over to his human form. Once such benefit was the canine ability to scent--and he recognized James’s ridiculous aftershave (seriously, he’s thirteen, _why_ ).

This wasn’t the first time. Sure, James had the map, but Sirius had had an extra seven years to explore the castle. He knew how to get James hopelessly confused as to how Sirius managed to get through a passage that wasn’t listed on the map.

He knew James was suspicious; he’d be suspicious too. His wandering around at all hours and then literally disappearing from the map was probably rather disconcerting, but Sirius wasn’t sure what would get James to back off. He’d already said that it was for a prank, but James stopped believing that days ago. He’d tried simply saying that it was personal and James had reluctantly accepted that, but then started following Sirius three days ago.  
Sirius wanted it to stop. He was still slowly collecting ingredients since he would need dozens of items, filching some from unsuspecting staff or students and owl-ordering others. Hagrid was still working on the unicorn tail hair.

Sirius couldn’t exactly blame James for being worried. He knew he was perhaps overly focused on the whole Voldemort thing and had been for three years. James probably hadn’t realized how much sneaking around Sirius had been doing before the map, but now his movements were extremely erratic as he searched for all the odds and ends he’d need.

Sirius sighed, resigned, and waited. James turned the corner only seconds after, apparently not realizing that Sirius hadn’t moved and that he was now in Sirius’s range of sight. Sirius turned around.

“Why are you following me?”

“Because I’m worried. What are you doing, Sirius?” James asked, caught off guard and defensive.

“What I’m doing is personal. I already told you that.” Sirius countered, equally as defensive.

“Well that’s not a good enough answer!”

“Too damn bad! Now shut up before a professor hears you.”

“None of them are on this floor right now.” James took the bait for the subject change for only a moment.

“What are you doing?” Punctuating his words seemed to give them an edge that James’s interactions with Sirius usually lacked.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you just have to trust me.” James’s face visibly reddened in frustration.

“When you’re sneaking around all the time and won’t tell us why? When even your brother practically has to schedule an appointment to see you? Tell me what’s going on and maybe I can help you.” He paused, reluctant to add the question on his mind, but added shortly, “Is it... is it your family?”

“I...,” he trailed off, not sure how to respond. After all, it did involve his family in a roundabout way, but dare he take the excuse and suffer the consequences?

“Yeah, a bit.” Well, he’d always been too impulsive for his own good.

“Does Regulus know tha--... whatever it is?”

“No. It’s... not really about him.”

“And you’re sure that it doesn’t apply to him too? Because I’ve seen the way Remus looks at him. I’m not _completely blind.”_

Sirius choked.

Because... what? He couldn’t be implying...

_“What?”_

“That... you’re gay? Or well... not straight?” Holy shit, he was!

“I’m not--!”

“I’ve gotten some aspects of my animagus form. And trust me, I did not need to know what it smelled like for one of my dormmates to jerk off. And Merlin, I can smell hormones--and I know you’ve got it bad for Longbottom.” For once, Sirius was shocked utterly silent. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding away in his ears, and a distant part of his mind (the portion that wasn’t completely freaking out) was wondering what else James knew from smells that Sirius didn’t want him to.

“It’s okay, really! I don’t mind. I mean, I’ve thought about that kind of thing too. Not Frank of course, but guys. Not really my cup of tea, since I’m apparently so gone on Evans, but yeah. I swear, it’s okay. Remus and I will support you and I’d bet your brother would too,” James rambled, but Sirius could not comprehend the information that was being thrown at him right now. Clearly unable to respond, Sirius’s demeanor prompted James to shift awkwardly on his feet before declaring that he would leave Sirius alone now to deal with everything.

Sirius couldn’t even find the clarity to nod.

 

James kept sending him these _looks_. It was as though James had decided to (silently, blessedly silently) make up for all the ribbing Sirius had inflicting on James over his crush on Lily all at once. Remus was clearly wondering why James kept smirking at Sirius and making him imitate a tomato, but accepted the answer that Sirius didn’t want to talk about it.

If Remus didn’t know James liked Lily so much, he’d be half-convinced that James and Sirius were a thing. Remus quietly continued nibbling on his bacon and observing his friends who were casting occasional glances further down the Gryffindor table. Remus rolled his eyes when James sent Sirius a lewd gesture after looking towards Longbottom.

Took him long enough to figure it out.

 

By Halloween he had 57% of the ingredients he needed.

By the end of November, after his (second) fourteenth birthday, he had 89%.

By mid-December, he finally had 98% and decided that since the final ingredient would be arriving in hopefully six days, he needed to go ahead and start the potion as soon as the winter holiday began. He needed to wait only a few more days.

 

Sirius knew that Regulus was confused about his motives and questioning his parents’ ideals, but he hadn’t expected his brother to stay over the holiday. Thankfully, his timing allowed the potion to sit under stasis for most of Christmas so he could spend it with Reg and Remus. He knew they were confused when he said he was going to turn in for the night at only eight o’clock, but they didn’t have the map and he trusted they wouldn’t follow him on Christmas when they were undoubtably tired from the feast.

Sirius proceeded down to the second floor girls’ lavatory and continued to work on the potion, answering whatever questions Myrtle threw at him so she wouldn’t intentionally try to annoy him.

He checked and rechecked the instructions.

Three days to go, including two three o’clock wakeup calls that would doubtlessly leave dark bags under his eyes.  
If he did the potion right, the color would be a light green. He prayed to Merlin that any latent ancestral potion skills kicked in now.

 

Two days before the new year, Sirius finally completed the last step of the process. Quickly pulling out glass vials, he filled each one to the brim with the solution just in case and stared at the color.

It was green, certainly. But not exactly light green--more lime green that anything else, and Sirius prayed to Merlin again.

He would conduct the rest of the ritual after a nice long nap.

 

Sirius thought it was rather anticlimactic that he _could_ decimate the Death Eater’s army with just proximity to a marked follower. The problem was that he could but then he wouldn’t be eliminating the Voldemort problem--just the marked Death Eater problem. So, as much as it pained him, Sirius waited.

He had nothing Voldemort-related that he could do until he went home for the summer and could use the Knight Bus or a portkey. He needed to get to Wiltshire to kill Nagini and hopefully kill Voldemort, but if everything went to plan, it wasn’t a necessity. He would need to destroy the diary and cup as well, but not before Nagini.

Honestly, there were some things even magic couldn’t do, like fully prepare him for whatever he may face in Wiltshire that summer.

But he was ready, he decided, to face whatever fate he might meet when the day came.

 

School dragged on. James was on the Quidditch team and succeeded in dragging Sirius to every single game to help with strategy and such. Regulus himself had been made a reserve chaser on the Ravenclaw team, so Sirius had two reasons to attend. When the Ravenclaw chaser got hit with a bludger and removed from a game, Sirius whipped out his omnioculars to film the rivalry between James and Regulus on opposite teams.

He printed copies of Regulus smirking and James pouting and sold them for five sickles each. Apparently a lot of the school thought they were nice looking and Sirius had made almost enough to cover the cost of all the potions ingredients he’d needed to buy. James pouted some more.

(Sirius sent the Potters a copy. James’s parents were positively delighted.)

Classes were pretty boring. He’d already done everything, so he continued his own research projects outside of class and watched over some of the creatures in the Forbidden Forrest with Hagrid since he owed the rather lonely man.

Sirius also messed around with his brother a lot more, gushing his theories about soul-magic and cackling when Regulus said he thought he might have a tiiiiiiny crush on Remus _ohMerlindon’ttellhimSiri!_

Sirius got a lot of humor for the rest of the year watching Remus crushing on Regulus while Regulus crushed right back on Remus, the both of them completely oblivious to the other’s infatuation. Once James saw it, he was dying of laughter too and Sirius had to persuade him that it was funnier to watch them tip-toe around each other than to give them a hint.

Meanwhile, Sirius’s own affection for Frank Longbottom hadn’t abated, but he found he was also starting to like Alice which left him as confused as anything because _they literally got married in his timeline._ AND HAD A BABY.  
Suffice it to say, though Sirius considered himself bored the rest of the school year, he had plenty to think about and worry over for the following months.

 

Sirius counted down the days to summer and counted down the days until the porkey he made would take him to Wiltshire. Eventually the first count turned to zero and Sirius boarded the train home. Regulus tried to talk about their exams, but Sirius was hardly listening over his mental chant of _eighteen days, eighteen days, eighteen days._  
He’s not even sure why he chose that day. _Eighteen days, eighteen days..._

 

Even with the number of days counting down and approaching zero, Sirius still felt like time was moving too slowly. Then the day came and time moved even slower, if that was possible. Sirius was hoping to get away during the night when he would be least likely to be missed.

All his preparations were leading to this moment and he literally had to wait for his parents to go to bed. There were some downsides when time-traveling, one being that you were still expected to act the age of your physical body even when he was physically only fourteen. So Sirius waited impatiently for the clock to strike midnight and his portkey to whisk him across the country to Wiltshire.

How fitting that the name should have ‘wilt’ in it, as Sirius planned to kill off Voldemort’s metaphorical harvest.  
He felt the tug of the portkey and the sudden shift in location and had to steady himself before he could fall on his arse. The air was chilly, raising bumps on his skin. He wasn’t sure if the area actually had an aura of foreboding or if it was merely his imagination, but he felt eerily like it was the presence of the Dark Lord giving off evil vibes.

Regardless, his feet dragged him forward as he began the long trek towards the cottage where the Dark Lord had been staying according to the Map. Riddle was smarter than his followers, having a much wider scan for magical usage in the vicinity than the Death Eaters did, so Sirius would have to go in the muggle way. Thankfully, that was something that would be unexpected.

Even if it made Sirius’s legs hurt like fiendfyre tomorrow.

Sirius stared at the compass Lily had let him borrow. Any magic risked detection in the area, so he was doing everything the muggle way, including using a torch to see the compass since it was impossible to see anything. He was nervous about using the light though, sure that a Death Eater would look out a window at just the wrong moment and catch sight of the light.

When he guessed that he had travelled a kilometer and a half (and it truly was a guess), he cut off the torch and walked in the direction the compass had shown and tried desperately not to trip over all the loose foliage. A few minutes later, he could just barely make out a shape that was slightly lighter than its surroundings and crept ever-closer, keeping low to the ground. As a precaution, he transformed into his animagus form, careful to keep the potion from changing along with him, not daring to let it be altered.

He paused when he was within a few dozen yards and listened. He couldn’t hear much above the sounds of the night, crickets and owls all too delighted by the darkness to keep quiet, but underneath all that, he could just barely make out human voices. He inched closer.

Two dozen yards.

A dozen.

He stopped again and perked his canine ears. He hadn’t had much interaction with the Dark Lord and couldn’t honestly say that he’d recognize his voice on cue, but the others he did recognize: Rudolphus Lestrange and his cousin Bellatrix.

He realized suddenly that he had effectively no means to protect himself without potentially involving the Ministry and that he was a fool who clearly hadn’t actually thought this through very well.

He strolled up to the house and changed back to human form, letting the vials of potion that he’d brought silently rest on the ground. Thankfully, the animagus transformation wouldn’t register to any scans on the periphery--but a human presence might. He could only prey to Merlin that no such defenses had been put in place.

He knew without a doubt that he was within a kilometer of a marked follower and released a quiet breath and he picked up one of the vials and unscrewed the lid. Carefully, he poured the green liquid (that smelled oddly like hibiscus) onto his wand, trying to keep it towards the tip and wincing when the solution was absorbed into the wand when he’d hoped it would lie on top where he could rinse it away.

Letting the hibiscus smell overpower the foul sensation of the magic inside the house, Sirius began casting the spell so quietly that he could hardly hear his own voice.

 _“Tattoo hanc transmutare in compedes servitutem volui super magic.”_ He pointed his wand toward the inside of the window and said the spell twice more for good measure. He found himself shivering, not knowing why and froze as the quiet murmur he’d been hearing paused for a moment before exploding into a cacophony of shrieks, Bellatrix’s louder than the others. He heard bangs as well, as though the three had fallen down and realized suddenly that there had been more people asleep upstairs.

 _Stupid._ He hadn’t even realized. Thank Merlin they must have been marked too, given the screams.

He pulled out the Diary and Cup’s box along with a single basilisk venom-coated knife. Bracing himself, he opened the box and immediately stabbed the Diary and pulled the knife back out as quickly as he could to stab the cup as well. Of course, with the cup being metal, it didn’t work as well, but once the venom met the horcrux’s magic, the Hufflepuff cup was once more cured of evil.

One horcrux remained and it was likely consoling its Master inside. As he dizzily lifted his head from the ground where he’d been shoved down, he corrected that assumption and flung himself away as Nagini made to strike at him.

He hadn’t realized that he’d let go of the knife or that his back-up fang was still in his bag on the other side of the barrier Nagini presented herself as.

Sirius eyed the bag and eyed Nagini.

He wouldn’t be able to get to it without a fair bit of luck. Thankfully, he had some on his side. He knew stealing Slughorn’s store of Felix Felicis was a good idea.

He quickly popped a vial from his pocket and downed it in one go. Hmm, it tasted like honey.

Nagini attempted another strike on Sirius who leapt bodily over the snake and to the other side, grabbing the bag as soon as he landed. Assessing the situation and hoping to Merlin his luck held up, Sirius ran the yard or so toward the building and moved a foot forward to act as a means to push off from the wall with momentum, his food mere millimeters from Nagini’s fangs as she too threw herself at the wall. Sirius grappled around in his bag for the fang while Nagini tried to wiggle her fangs from the new hole in the wall but threw the bag down with a frustrated groan as he realized that he had actually managed to forget the extra fang. Of all the things to forget.

He should have taken the Liquid Luck earlier.

His wand, however, lay at his feet and he shrugged and picked it up.

 _“Accio knife!”_ Careful of the knife now zooming toward him, Sirius plucked the handle from mid air and stuck it directly down into Nagini’s middle right as she freed herself. He immediately jumped back and waited to be struck down, only opening his eyes a few seconds later when he realized that he wasn’t dead, coming nearly face-to-teeth with Nagini who was spitting in rage at him, but unable to move forward and who crumpled down dead in moments.  
Sirius felt a slow smirk slide on his face and allowed himself a moment to gloat before the door banged open, showing Bellatrix and Rudolphus.

Sirius felt the childish urge to flee, so he did--literally going around the house and towards the now open door while being pursued by the married couple. His life was _siriusly (get it?)_ weird.

He slammed the door closed behind him and faced the fact that he didn’t have a plan or any supplies except his wand which still smelled of hibiscus.

From his knees, a now mortal Voldemort--no, _Tom Riddle_ \--stared at the young teenager clutching a wand and snarled.

“Who are you, brat?” asked the Dark Lord, still clearly catching his breath after feeling Nagini’s death and reeling from the ritual Sirius had cast. Bellatrix and Rudolphus were banging on the door and shouting, but Riddle ignored them and so did Sirius.

“No one of any _sirius_ importance.” Riddle looked Sirius over from head to toe and Sirius suddenly felt quite violated.

“Oh, I can see that,” Riddle countered weakly. Sirius glanced down at his dirtied attire and shrugged, trying not to focus on how he was nonchalantly chatting with the Dark Lord.

“And yet,” he found the ability to say, “here we are.”

“Hmm,” Riddle agreed, stubborn to the last breath.

“Well, what are you waiting for? _Do it_ ,” he hissed.

So Sirius did.

Looking back, he doesn’t even remember what spell he used, only that he’d remembered it wasn’t registered with the Ministry. Bellatrix and Rudolphus continued banging uselessly on the door and even smashed in a window, but didn’t enter. He sat cross-legged in the house in front of the dead body of what had once been Tom Marvolo Riddle and waited for his portkey to activate.

It was over; Voldemort was dead, and Sirius had used the Mark to bind the magic of all of the marked followers, but the _idea_ of Voldemort was not yet dead.

He still had work to do, but maybe... maybe now he could start living his life again. Maybe ask out Alice and Frank, see if they were up for a polyamorus relationship. Take Regulus to a Quidditch game after sneaking out. Convince James to finally ask out Lily. Set up Regulus and Remus finally.

Just... start accepting this life as his own instead of living it like he was holding the place for someone else. It sounded nice.

 

The next time he saw the Veil, he was twenty-two and doing a piece for his radio-show, accompanied by his co-worker Remus while James, a part-time Unspeakable, led the two into the room. He glanced at his own wedding ring, his friends’ wedding rings, Remus’s good clothes, James’s dopey smile (Harry was still young enough that he was still in shock mode--and don’t even get Sirius started on his own little Neville), and silently thanked the Mystery Veil for his second chance.

He didn’t get much of those in his life, so... thanks.

 

_le fin_

**Author's Note:**

> spell translation: /Transmute this tattoo meant to enslave into shackles upon one's magic/
> 
> Sirius deserves nice things so I decided to give them to him, even if there was some angst.
> 
> un-beta'd due to time constraints
> 
> Please comment :)


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